


The Codex Gigas

by The_Falcon



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: #Acceptance journey for Chloe, #Chloe knows, #Dark themes, #Deckerstar, #Devil reveal, #End of Times, #Mutual pairing, #Mythology theme, #Post season 3/post reveal, #angst, #romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Devil Face Reveal to Chloe Decker, Protective Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Some Humor, Trixie Decker & Lucifer Morningstar Bonding, Trixie Decker & Lucifer Morningstar Friendship, Winged Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Worried Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-11-13 09:03:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 48,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18028823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Falcon/pseuds/The_Falcon
Summary: Chloe Decker hasn’t seen or spoken to Lucifer Morningstar since the day everything changed. When Trixie shows up at the Devil’s den one evening, Chloe is forced to confront all the pent up fears she’s been suppressing for weeks. Little does she know Trixie’s impromptu visit is going to get Lucifer in a world of trouble. But nothing like the storm that begins to brew as the consequences of his recent actions loom over humanity as a whole.[COMPLETE}





	1. The Human Spawn

**Author's Note:**

> **Hello, everyone! It has been a while. I figured I'd write another Lucifer story while the show is on hiatus. The story is finished, so I'll be posting a new chapter every week. I hope you guys enjoy this fic, and that it makes the wait up to the release of S4 a little more bearable.**
> 
>  
> 
> **I must extend a HUGE thank you to my wonderful beta, _Ariaadagio_ , who has helped me sort through a bunch of initial hurdles, and keeps me on my toes chapter after chapter. Her guidance and support have made writing this story a really fun challenge. Working with her on this fic has been a true privilege. Also, a very special thanks to _mere-mortifer_ for introducing me to the wonderful world of AO3 tags and offering me some excellent tips. :-)**

_**Prologue**_

_Before the Universal Code was ever put forth by the Creator, there existed only one law. The Law. It ruled over the Heavens. It stretched across dimensions. It was eternal. It was omnipresent. It was so deeply ingrained in celestial creed, no one dared question it._

_Such law was simple: angels were not allowed to end a human life._

_The consequences for defying this unspoken rule were dire. Whispers of Armageddon would slither down the grapevine, each scenario more horrific than the next. Nobody really knew what breaking this unyielding law would entail. The consensus seemed to be that the End Time would be met with fire and brimstone._

_Ultimately, God would decide._

_The information had been vaguely communicated to those humans with the predisposition to listen. Blind faith had carried the message across the centuries. Wars had been waged to keep the divine flame alive, to warn humans about the Devil, to keep them from being cogged in his web of misdeeds._

_In the end, as the scriptures had predicted, it would be Lucifer who’d eventually break the Divine Law._

_It would be the Devil who’d bring about the Apocalypse…_

_**The Human Spawn**_

Getting to Lux had been a piece of cake. Getting _in_ , however, had proven to be a greater challenge. Trixie remembered the time she had shown up at the club one early afternoon. On a Tuesday. There had been no security guard at the entrance, and a nice woman wearing purple underwear, who happened to be leaving, had simply held open the door for her. Meeting Maze in the cool depths of the club had been the highlight of her week. 

Tonight—a Thursday—the place was swarming with patrons, security guards, valets, and performers… The beat of the music boomed, making the ground vibrate throughout the entire block. Nobody seemed to notice Trixie in the hectic crowd, but that didn’t mean she had a snowball’s chance in Hell at making it past the security guard at the main entrance. 

But that didn’t deter Trixie in the slightest. After all, her mom always said: “when there's a will, there's a way.” Lucifer had mentioned how the elevator in the underground parking was the fastest way up to the penthouse if one wished to avoid “those pesky masses.” Entry to the parking lot was restricted to people with an authorized keycard like the one Lucifer had given her mom. Luckily, pedestrians didn’t need keycards to get past a flimsy parking gate. So Trixie snuck in on foot, figuring she could make a run down the ramp undetected by using the time window between the arrival of one car and the next. 

Mission accomplished, she wandered around the parking garage and came across three different exits, all three pointing to a different elevator and stairway. She hesitated for a few moments, not sure which one to pick, until she spotted Lucifer’s _Corvette_ parked beside the one on the far end. 

_Bingo!_

Trixie smiled triumphantly as she rushed into the elevator in question. Going on tip-toe, she managed to reach the button marked “PH” at the very top. She had gotten a couple of inches taller in recent months, and used every inch of that height gain to her advantage. 

Blood rushed down to her stomach as the elevator shot upward like a rocket. For some strange reason, her mom had never brought her along to Lucifer’s place. He had been to their apartment countless times, after all. He’d come over for Taco Tuesday, and Movie Friday. She liked it when they all gathered together as a family. It was always a blast playing games, and baking cookies, and doing a bunch of other kid stuff with him. Trixie knew he only did it to spend time with her mom away from work. That’s why she had found it odd that he’d stopped coming to their home a few weeks ago. 

Something had happened between Lucifer and her mom. Trixie was smart enough to know that. 

_Did they get into a fight?_

No. They were always fighting about one thing or another, and that only seemed to make them like each other even more. His absence had to be about something else. Her mom rarely avoided talking about things— _anything_ —with her. But this time, whenever Trixie brought up the subject of Lucifer's scarcity, she’d end up stuck with extra chores, or being sent to bed early, so she’d stopped asking. 

As the ride neared the penthouse, she began to hear the distinct rumble of a conversation. The metal casing of the elevator muffled the voices, but even with the acoustic disadvantage several things were clear: one of the voices belonged to Lucifer, the other one belonged to a woman, it sounded like they were engaged in a heated argument, and, as much as Trixie tried to hone in on the conversation, she couldn't understand a word they were saying. 

_Maybe coming here was a mistake_ , Trixie thought as the numbers lit up in crescendo over the sliding doors. 

Was there a way to reverse the direction of the elevator? She stared at the panel with all the buttons, trying to decipher its commands while the cryptic argument became louder and louder. The ride came to a smooth halt, and Trixie’s stomach did a funny flip-flop that had little to do with inertia. 

The doors swished open, and her jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the penthouse. The space wasn’t _anything_ like she had imagined. Lucifer’s voice came through, loud and crisp now, from beyond the living area, past the open panels that led to a terrace. The words were spoken in a foreign language. Not Spanish. Trixie would’ve been able to understand them if that were the case. 

She hesitated before summoning up the courage to step out of the elevator. She had gotten too far now to turn around. Besides, she had never seen Lucifer angry. Ever. He would understand. He liked when she showed defiance. Surely, her coming here would not make him mad. __

The woman spoke again. Her voice sounded musical, melodious, how a mermaid would sound. Curiosity propelled Trixie forward in silent pursuit. 

Nana had always accused her of being nosey. She was probably right. On the other hand, Mom kept telling her that being curious about stuff was a good thing. 

The conversation on the terrace heated up into a full-fledged argument. Trixie didn’t need to speak the language to know when two people were fighting. She’d witnessed plenty of her parent’s fights. And though they had always tried to keep it “civil,” the underlying animosity was impossible to miss. That never changed, regardless of context, culture, or language. 

There was a glowing bar with a massive collection of bottles and decanters to her right, tall shelves full of ancient, leather-bound books to her left, and elaborately carved walls all around her. The place reminded her of that movie she had watched once with Dad about an evil mummy that went around killing people. Trixie bit her lip. Mom had been so mad at him after the movie had given Trixie nightmares! 

She had been so silly when she was seven. Mummies weren’t real! And neither were monsters! And this penthouse was way too cool to give anybody nightmares. 

Trixie smiled, her fingers trailing the slick edge of the grand piano. An enormous glass-looking fireplace enclosed tall, dancing flames, while soft-lit vegetation framed the outer edge of the terrace, where two dark figures stood off to the side. She didn’t dare intrude. They seemed to exist in their own bubble of bitterness, despite the decibels having simmered down to an angry murmur at that point. The glow of the city lights rose like an unnatural orb behind them, melting into a starless night sky. 

The only thing that stood between Trixie and the terrace were a set of austere leather sofas. 

_These would make for an awesome spaceship_ ! Trixie’s imagination was already running wild. _It would be such a stylish ride to Mars!_

Her mind was conjuring up a take-off scenario when two tall figures entered the lounge, and the voices ceased. 

Trixie spun around, snapping out of her reverie, heart pounding. 

Lucifer stood just a few steps away, next to a slender tall woman with fiery red hair flowing down to her waist. Trixie’s throat became parched. She glanced at the woman and felt even smaller. So engrossed had Trixie been in scouting every detail of her surroundings, their approach almost took her by surprise. Gulping, she recoiled. Lucifer cocked his head as he adjusted the belt on his burgundy silk robe. His hair was damp and untamed, like he had hastily run a towel over it after a shower and hadn’t bothered to comb it, or like it had been tussled by the breeze. His expression was one of bewilderment. 

He sent a quick glance towards the elevator, as if expecting to see someone else, before his narrowed eyes trailed back to her. 

“What on _Earth_ are you doing here, Child?” 

The woman frowned. She began to say something in the mysterious language, but Lucifer raised his hand, a signal that made her stop talking. 

Trixie tried to smile but only managed a clumsy half smirk. “Hi, Lucifer.” 

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “How did you get past security, anyway?” 

Before Trixie had a chance to respond, the svelte woman spoke again, this time in English. 

“Don’t use the human child as a deflection, Lucifer.” 

Her words were soft, but the tension between them was palpable. Now that Trixie's eyes had adjusted to the dimness, the woman's features became more defined. She was beautiful. Stunningly so. Her eyes, which had seemed dark at first, actually resembled the color of honey. Intense against the paleness of her skin, they sparkled under the light of the fire. 

Trixie opened her mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat. Lucifer exhaled and rubbed his temples as if warding off a looming headache. 

“I really can’t deal with this right now,” he mumbled. “I must say, Urchin, your timing is rather unfortunate. Does your mother even know you’re here?” 

The woman cocked her head, and a slow smile stretched across her delicate features. 

“Wait. Is this _the_ human child?” she whispered, marveling at Trixie. “It is true, then…” 

Something dark flashed behind Lucifer’s eyes. 

“No,” he growled, his voice dark. His next words were spoken in that weird language, but they sounded a lot like a warning. A deep chill ran down Trixie's spine at the sound. 

“You can’t stop the inevitable, Brother,” the woman told him, holding his stare. 

Lucifer’s responding grin was defiant, but his posture was tense. “Try me.” 

His counterpart smirked derisively. 

Without saying another word, she tilted her head in mock reverence, walked out onto the terrace, and disappeared. 

Trixie rubbed her eyes, wondering if she might have imagined the woman stepping off the ledge. But that was impossible. Her mind was _clearly_ playing tricks on her. 

Once alone, Lucifer stared down at Trixie. 

“Now,” he said, sighing, arms folded over his chest. “Would you kindly care to explain?” 

“I’m s—sorry. I didn’t know you had a guest,” Trixie stammered, hating the sudden moisture clouding her eyes. “I just… I didn’t know where else to go.” 

**[To Be Continued…]**


	2. Funny You Should Ask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hi, guys! Okay, so here is chapter 2. I hope you enjoy it. :-)**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **A huge thanks to my beta, _ariaadagio_ , for all her help, guidance and support. Girl, you rock!**

_Funny You Should Ask_

__

When your life has been turned upside down, it takes a while to regain your bearings. 

For Chloe, that was the mother of all understatements. It had been three weeks since the dreadful ambush that had cost Lieutenant Marcus Pierce his life. Three weeks since her forced leave of absence pending a mental evaluation had begun. Three weeks since waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night had become the norm. 

Three weeks since she last saw the Devil. 

As much as she tried to put up a brave front for Trixie’s sake (and for her own sake), her world would always come crumbling down again in the quietest hours of the night. She kept reliving that moment of reckoning, when she'd seen the Devil’s true face, over and over and over again. 

_It’s all true… It’s all true…_

Shock had been a tidal wave in which fantasy and reality collided to create a world that didn’t make sense anymore. She had rushed out of that building, lost and disoriented. The hammering of her heart had been her only proof the whole fucking thing wasn’t a dream, flimsy evidence though it may have been. She couldn’t even remember returning to the office, let alone the following hours. 

The crime scene had been sealed off and investigated by an entirely different precinct. Her own department had been asked to assist only tangentially, providing any scrap of information available regarding the clandestine activities leading up to Marcus Pierce's death. Thanks to Charlotte's preliminary efforts, the fact that he had been the Sinnerman had been established in the early stages of the investigation. No suspect had been implicated in his murder, though, since no fingerprints had been found on the murder weapon. 

Chloe had been asked to stay the hell away from the case for obvious reasons. Not least of which was that the vic happened to be her ex-fiancé. Instead, acting Lieutenant Francis O’Malley had suggested, no, he had _ordered_ she take some time off. The Chief of Police had signed off on her suspension, making any appeal upstairs a waste of her time. 

_“Consider it a much needed vacation, Decker,”_ O’Malley had said _. “Use the time to clear your head. Allow the dust to settle. Same goes for your partner.”_

Her partner… 

She had received a text message that same evening. 

_Are you okay, Detective?_

Seeing the words on her phone had caused her stomach to twist into a knot. Having no idea how to reply to that, she'd taken a good ten minutes to formulate an answer. She had certainly _not_ been okay. The past two years had kept swirling in and out of her mind in kaleidoscopic fashion until she'd begun to hyperventilate. Summoning all the composure she could muster, she'd run her trembling fingers over the letters on her keypad, her hands completely disconnected from her brain. 

_I need time…_

He hadn’t pursued any further communication. The Devil had respected her wishes and, for that, she was grateful. 

So, for three weeks, Chloe had spent every night tossing and turning. Thinking. Remembering. Trying to see it all through a different prism. 

_I always tell you the truth. No matter what._

A shift to the left, where the mattress would feel a bit cooler. 

_They are not metaphors!_

The pillow would be too flat. She’d fluff it up and press her cheek to it once again. 

_It’s my wings. They’re back!_

She would kick the blanket off to one side. Turn over. 

_God given, I’m afraid…_

_I’m immortal._

Dogs would be barking on and off in the distance. 

_You deserve to know the truth!_

She would find herself shivering. Pull the blanket over her body. Turn again. 

_I was afraid._

_Afraid that you’d run away._

The darned pillow would be a sweaty heap stuffed with fake feathers. 

_Feathers._

_Blood and feathers._

_Bloody feathers all over the place._

The sheets would be a tangled mess around her ankles, and the blanket would be jumbled in a twist. She’d pull her knees up to her chest and curl into a ball. 

_Just empty the mind… Still your thoughts... Don’t let them wander…_

But the one memory would always manage to sneak in, playing in her head like an old movie reel. 

_Chloe, I_ am _the Devil._

The lump in her throat would make swallowing sheer torture. The prickling behind her eyelids would eventually turn to a burning sensation, both familiar and uncomfortable. The point of no return. It was then that her brain would take her hostage. It would force her to remember every minute detail: the tenderness of his lips on hers, how he tasted, the warmth of his breath against her skin, the sweet rush of adrenaline, the longing for closeness, the need to be held, the safety of his embrace… 

_No, you’re not. Not to me._

A sob would tear through her lips, the immaculate silence of the bedroom shattered. 

Every night, she would feel as if an invisible weight were pressing down on her chest, making it almost impossible to breathe. 

Every. Damn. Night. 

Chloe had tried to keep her mind occupied. She'd watched the late night comedians, dug into that novel she’d been dying to read, caught up with her social media contacts, taken steaming showers, drunk warm milk... She'd even tried counting stupid sheep until all her brain cells went numb, but there was no damned escape. She could not get away from the revolving memories, and she couldn't ignore her conflicting emotions. 

Night after night, she’d go through the same exact dynamic: 

Tossing. Turning. Thinking. Crying. 

Drowning… 

Dawn would find her puffy-eyed and spent, unable to come to terms with the fact that her heart was unlikely to ever accept it. But she needed to be strong. If not for herself, for her daughter. 

Trixie had been asking questions. Chloe had been avoiding the subject every time Lucifer’s name had come up. Keeping some semblance of normalcy was imperative, so she had made sure her daughter kept going to school and doing her homework. Chloe had taken Trixie to soccer practice, and karate lessons, and to the occasional birthday party. They had gone to the mall and had their nails done in bubblegum pink. Normal stuff. Average stuff. Stuff that hadn’t fooled her daughter for a second, but had kept unwanted questions at bay for the time being. 

So, when Penelope had announced that she would be taking Trix to the movies with her new boyfriend and his grandson, Chloe had felt a huge weight lifting off her shoulders. Not that she didn’t enjoy spending time with Trixie, but a little breather from pretending to be okay at home was a more than welcome break, especially on her first day back to work, when yet more pretending was a requirement. 

But if Dan could fake being fine, so could she. He had also been through the wringer recently. An arguably less “end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it” wringer, but a devastating one nonetheless. She had failed to be there for him in the way he'd needed, and it pained her. But how could she be there for anyone? She couldn't even be there for herself. 

She wasn't ready to be back on the field, but all in all, she thought she'd at least done a great job fooling her colleagues into believing she was “over the moon” dealing with the pile of paperwork she had been assigned. No biggie. Desk duty was SOP after a traumatic experience. And the fatal stabbing of her boss, especially after having a close personal relationship with said boss, apparently qualified as such. At least the Sinnerman case would be closed, filed and—fingers crossed—forgotten in a not-so-distant future. 

One hoped. 

_Done and done!_

Chloe huffed out a sad chuckle at the thought. 

_Done and done…_

Her phone buzzed. She reached for it and felt her heart dropping into her stomach at the sight of the caller ID. 

_LUCIFER_

She blocked the call and then blocked his number altogether, an instinct that left her feeling extremely cold. 

_She couldn’t. She just… couldn’t_ . _Not yet. Not today._

Taking in a lungful of air, she pushed away unwanted thoughts and tried to focus on the task at hand. Archiving case after case was an easy task for a zombie. And that was exactly how Chloe felt. Sleep deprivation combined with a poor-ass diet and an excess of caffeine would do that to a person, she supposed. Fortunately, nobody had pointed out how crappy she must look. 

Well, nobody except… 

“Whoa, girl! You look exhausted!” Ella sat across from her, dark gaze dancing over Chloe’s features. “You sure you don’t wanna take another coupla days off?” 

“No. I’m fine,” Chloe lied. “I’m almost done with Garrett’s arrest report. What a mess that was, huh!” 

But Ella didn't seem fooled by Chloe's nonchalance. “You really think working overtime on your first day is a good idea?” 

_Probably not. But death via being overworked was a hell of a lot better than drowning in a sea of memories at home._

The phone buzzed. A welcomed distraction. 

“Mom,” Chloe said, sighing into the receiver. “What’s up? How was the movie?” 

_“It was so much fun! Trixie would’ve loved it!”_

Chloe blanched. “What do you mean? She's not with you?” 

There was a brief pause before Penelope spoke again. _“No,”_ she said. Her frown could actually be _felt_ through the line. _“The school said you were going to pick her up. We just assumed… Oh, God! She’s not with you?”_

A deep sense of dread washed over Chloe. “No.” 

Inside of ten minutes, an Amber Alert had been launched statewide and CBP was notified. Ella and Chloe had rushed to the apartment to find the place empty, Penelope had gone to her beach condo to be met with equal luck, and Dan had talked to all of Trixie's teachers, coaches, and the principal of her school. He had even stopped by the karate dojo to talk to her Sensei, Master Tanaka, but Trixie had not attended his lesson that Thursday. 

On the way back to the precinct, Ella had called Lucifer, but his line had been busy, so she had called Lux in the odd chance somebody had seen Trixie. Nobody had. The bartender had told her that Lucifer had retired to the penthouse early, where he’d been all evening. Ella had made a passing comment about Lucifer’s insatiable sex drive that she had seemed to regret almost as soon as it had left her mouth. They'd driven to the precinct in silence after that. 

Chloe checked her Uber account, but it hadn’t been used in over two months. They called practically every cab company in L.A., and they checked bus routes in a five mile radius from the school. Nothing. 

By 9:30 in the evening, there was no sign of Trixie. 

By 10, Chloe was frantically trying to not give into the panic that threatened to asphyxiate her. 

“Okay, thanks. Keep us posted if you see anything,” Ella said before hanging up the phone. “A couple spotted a girl that matched Trixie’s description near the Pit’s museum, but it turned out to be a false alarm. The kid had just wandered away from her big sis.” 

Everyone was abuzz at the precinct. Dan was talking on another line to the FBI about a possible kidnapping scenario. 

Drowning in impotence, Chloe buried her face in her hands. 

“God, I just don’t know what else to—“ She swallowed hard. “Have they searched Echo Park again? She loves that pond.” 

“We have two patrol cars combing that area right now,” Dan assured her as he sat beside them. He looked as haggard and worn out as one would expect. Reaching across the desk, he took Chloe’s hands into his and gave them a comforting squeeze. “Hey! We’re going to find her, okay?” 

As good as he was at improv, his tone couldn’t have sounded less confident. 

“I know.” 

Chloe tried to smile. She failed miserably. Tears began streaming down her cheeks and she wiped them away angrily. She didn’t want to lose it at the office. She had to remain strong. She had to… 

Dan glanced down at his phone and frowned. 

“I got two missed calls from Lucifer,” he announced. 

Chloe’s heart skipped a beat. 

“When?” 

“He must’ve called while I was talking to the FBI.” 

With trembling fingers, Chloe unblocked the familiar number and discovered seven missed calls. One at 8:42, the next at 8:45, 8:51, 8:59, 9:07, 9:25 and at 9:37. The frozen legs of an invisible spider began making their way up her spine. 

“Dan…” she breathed out. 

By the time she turned to her ex-husband, he was already returning Lucifer's call. She bit her bottom lip, an avalanche of hope dragging away her apprehension. After a couple of rings, Lucifer’s voice came through the line, faint to Chloe’s ears, yet unmistakable. 

_“Daniel! So nice of you to finally return my call. I hope I’m not interrupting a riveting night of pretending to drive across town whilst sitting on a chair not even_ America’s Worst Hoarders _would claim as their own.”_

“Shut up, man!” Dan rushed to say. “Is Trixie with you?” 

The cockiness in Lucifer’s voice came through loud and clear. 

_“Funny you should ask…”_

__

**[To Be Continued…]**

__


	3. I Know Torture When I See It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks. As always, a huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ for all her help and guidance as a beta. I hope you enjoy this chapter. :-)**

_I Know Torture When I See It_

__

The drastic change in his evening plans had Lucifer pouring a hefty dose of single-malt scotch into a tumbler. He downed the first shot in a gulp and went for seconds. His sister’s visit had left him with an unshakeable feeling of foreboding. 

Zerachiel worshipped their Father to a cult-like degree. A sense of humor, as was often the case with his most pious siblings, was sorely lacking as one of her defining traits. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why she and Lucifer never got along. Even prior to his fall, she would sneer at his jocularity and would find every single one of his pranks tasteless and immature. If Lucifer had been on her naughty list when he was an angel, his status had been promptly downgraded to head black sheep after his epic rebellion and subsequent defeat. Of course, Uriel’s unfortunate demise had earned Lucifer a permanent spot in the angelic garbage dump. That opinion was not only held by Zerachiel, but by the entire Angelic Host. 

Or so he had been led to believe. 

But Uriel’s murder had not dragged her ass out of the Silver City. Cain’s murder had. And for a good reason. Lucifer knew he had broken the Sacred Law. The golden rule of the heavens. No matter how hard he tried to justify his actions to his sister, or to _himself_ , the fact that his actions would have dire consequences didn't change. With a visceral revulsion that made his innards turn, he realized how, perhaps, Pierce might have been right. That immortal miscreant had accused him of being impulsive and, given what had transpired since that particular condemnation, the claim was a difficult one to dispute. All Lucifer had wanted to do was protect the detective, and now… 

He rotated his shoulders. His wings had almost healed completely. Only occasional discomfort remained now, and the pain was mild in comparison to the agony that had exploded in his back every time he had unfurled them in the days following the shooting. Tucking them in hadn’t been a picnic either. At one point, he’d stopped pulling them out altogether. A week had passed since he’d done so, though, and the need to stretch them was becoming an imperative. Tempted as he was to amputate them again—and given his Devil status, probably permanently—the fact the detective was alive thanks to them squelched such urge. 

He sighed, pouring one more generous dose of scotch into his tumbler, and took another gulp. The small human stood beside him, watching him with fascination. He had almost forgotten about her. 

“Would you care for some?” he asked. 

Beatrice hesitated for a brief second, then lifted her tiny shoulders in a “sure, why not?” motion. 

Lucifer handed her the glass, frowning at her grimace when the bitter drink slid down the child’s throat. 

“That’s _disgusting_!” she lisped. 

“That, Little Human, is a twelve-year-old Highland Park Valkyrie whiskey.” 

“Do you have any juice?” 

The request was so outlandish, he couldn’t hold back a scoff. He supposed he could accommodate her. Down at the club they stored sodas and juices for all those fruity drinks the ladies and Amenadiel liked so much. It wouldn’t be that big of a hassle to have a jug delivered to the penthouse. 

“All right,” Lucifer said, sighing as he reached for his phone. “Any flavor in particular?” 

Beatrice grinned. “Pineapple!” 

“Very well. Pineapple it is.” 

The child stomach’s churned, and she sent an apologetic glance his way. “I haven’t had dinner yet.” 

“Oh?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow. That’s right. Humans—even the small ones—required fuel. “And what is it that you’d like for dinner?” 

Food was often an easy choice in this particular area of the world, where one could indulge in any type of cuisine by simply letting one’s fingers do the walking. Yet, the child seemed unsure. 

“You like chocolate cake, yes?” he prodded. 

Beatrice’s eyes widened. “Can I have chocolate cake for dinner?” 

“You can have whatever you desire, Child,” Lucifer said. He didn’t understand her hesitation. All fulfilling her request took was a quick phone call to the _Terrace Grill_ , down by the pool deck. By her reaction, one might think he'd offered her the moon. 

The girl went to sit at the piano while he talked to his staff. She softly pressed on a few keys, not firmly enough for the instrument to wake, but enough to create the faint sound of incoherent notes barely strung together by an erratic tempo. 

“It’s a piano, not a delicate butterfly!” Lucifer told her the moment he hung up. “You have to _command_ its sound. Take ownership of it, not the other way around! Here. Let me show you.” He sat beside her on the bench, and pondered on what to play to get his point across. “Ah! You ought to know this one.” 

His fingers began dancing over the keys. The sound of the instrument never failed to relax him, so he welcomed the distraction. Just a couple of seconds into the song, Beatrice let out a squeal of delight. 

“It’s from Frozen!” she exclaimed. 

“Is it?” Lucifer teased without skipping a beat. “All right. Do you know the lyrics to the chorus?” The girl nodded enthusiastically. “Okay, here we go. _Let it go…_ ” 

Beatrice picked up from where he prompted, singing the Disney tune completely off key from the top of her lungs. Lucifer tried to follow the rhythm she was setting as best as he could, which was all over the place. Not that she appeared to be troubled by those bothersome little details. The way she poured her heart into the song made the corners of Lucifer’s mouth stretch into a reluctant smile. 

By the time the song wound down, Beatrice was grinning from ear to ear with self-satisfaction. 

“That was so much fun!” she said, beaming. 

“Yes, well, it seems you’ve inherited your mother’s disastrous musical abilities.” 

“I was obsessed with that song when I was six,” she informed him. “I can’t believe you know it!” 

“The most socially averse person could’ve recognized that bloody song. It’s the 2013 equivalent of _Despacito_.” 

“Ooh, can we sing that one too?!” 

“Um, no.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it will get stuck in my head for the rest of my life and, trust me when I say, I know torture when I see it.” An ominous sensation hit him like a whip. He shoved it aside and turned to the girl. “Now, can we talk about how you managed to snea—?” 

“Cool! Can I see what’s up there?” 

Beatrice had found the ladder to the second level of the library and was already holding onto the fourth rung before Lucifer could stop her. Not that he would have. Let the kid explore. Inquisitiveness was one aspect of human nature his dad kept stifling in lieu of blind complacency. 

“Dearie me!” he mumbled to himself. “She has the attention span of a two-month-old Golden Retriever.” Rolling his eyes, he added, “Be careful on the last step, Urchin. It’s not all that—“ 

Before he could finish his sentence, Beatrice set foot on the loose step, which slid to the left a notch, just enough for her to lose her footing. Her hand reached out in a desperate attempt to hold onto the railing. Her little fingers brushed the wood, but were unable to wrap around it, and she fell backwards with a panicked yelp. 

Lucifer lunged forward, scooping her into his arms at the very last second. 

“—stable,” he gritted, placing the girl back on the ground. He adjusted his silk robe, more out of frustration than anything else. “Will you just sit quietly? At least until the food gets here.” 

Two big brown eyes looked up at him apologetically. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see your books.” 

“Knock yourself out,” he invited, pointing at the row of shelves stacked with hundreds of books on the first level. “Just... not _literally._ ” 

Beatrice's initial disappointment seemed to vanish when she spotted one particular collection that stood out like a sore thumb against the rest of the old leather-bound books. She pulled one from the shelf and began leafing through it. 

“ _The Sandman: Omn— Omnibbbus_ ,” she stammered. She plucked a couple of more issues from the shelf, reading their respective titles. “Hey, check out this one! _Lucifer: Children and Monsters.”_ Her smile widened. “This one is about you! All these are comics!” __

“Uh, correction. They are works of art.” 

“Can I borrow one?” 

“You can borrow as many as you wish.” 

Beatrice tucked the book under her arm with a quiet, “thank you,” and moved on to the older books. She ran the tips of her fingers over the spines of those that caught her attention, tilting her head to read the titles, even trying to pronounce the ones written in a foreign language. She inspected with vivid curiosity dozens of works by Shakespeare, and Cervantes, and Dante, and Verne… 

A particularly colorful one caught her eye in the Oriental section. 

“Kama Sutra,” she said. 

Lucifer’s heart sped up. 

“Uh, Child, perhaps you ought to leave this one for when you’re a bit older,” he said, quickly snatching it from her hands. 

_Or, at least until you’re of legal age to do other grown up things._

He winced inwardly at the thought. That day may never come. 

Beatrice frowned. “Why? What’s it about?” 

“Huh?” Lucifer sobered. “Oh, it’s about, erm, stuff.” 

“What kinda stuff?” 

“Just… grown-up stuff!” 

_Bloody Hell! Was he actually_ blushing _?_ _What on Dad’s green Earth…?_

“Oh, so, it’s about sex.” 

“Okay, moving on to other books, there’s one over here about the Spanish Inquisition that was all the rage back in the fifteenth century! Blood, guts, torture and all the gore one can ask for. You know, all those things that wouldn’t be censored on what network television calls ‘prime-time.’” 

“You’re funny when you get nervous,” the girl said, laughing. 

Lucifer scoffed with indignation. “I’m not ner—” 

“Whoa!” Beatrice gasped. “That’s the biggest book I’ve ever seen in my life!” 

The book in question sat inside a glass-enclosed cabinet in the darkest corner of the library. The cover was about as tall as Beatrice, and looked way too heavy to be picked up by a single human. The leather sheath had an ancient insignia made of ornate metal at the center of the cover, with four similar-looking insignias on each corner. There was an air of mystery around the book, as palpable as it was intoxicating. The girl stood before the cabinet, studying the tome through the glass as if hypnotized. 

“What is it?” she finally whispered with reverence. 

“That’s the _Codex Gigas_ ,” Lucifer replied. “The original one, not the replica housed at the Swedish Royal Museum.” 

“The Codex _what_?” 

“The book of contrasts,” he said. “The light’s shadow. The chaos that challenges order. The Yin to the Yang. No?” Lucifer frowned at the girl’s blank stare. “The _Devil’s Bible_ , Child!” 

“How are people supposed to read it when it’s so big and clunky?” 

“Well, it wasn’t really meant to be read by humans.” 

Beatrice opened her mouth to say something when the elevator announced dinner’s arrival. A lady in her mid-forties wheeled a trolley into the penthouse, parked it near the piano, and nodded at Lucifer once done. 

“Thank you, María.” 

The caterer didn’t have the physical attributes most of his employees possessed. She was on the heavier side, seemed to abhor wearing makeup, and her affinity for the pageboy haircut often made Lucifer’s eyes bleed. But she was efficient and discreet, and Lucifer had hired her as a favor to be repaid at a later time, so he intended to be true to his word and keep her on his staff. 

Once María was dismissed, Beatrice took the plate with the gigantic slice of chocolate cake to the coffee table, where she knelt on the floor and proceeded to dig into it with the urgency of someone who hadn’t eaten in days. She shoved the first couple of forkfuls into her mouth and, by her expression, one might have thought she’d died and gone to Heaven. 

“Okay, Urchin,” Lucifer said sitting across from her on the sofa. “Now you’re going to tell me what brings you all the way over here. I’m assuming your mum believes you’re at a birthday party, or at one of those dreadful school events, or…” 

“At the movies with Nana,” Beatrice confessed avoiding eye contact. She took another bite of cake, but appeared to have lost her appetite. 

“I see,” Lucifer nodded. “And you’re not currently sitting through whatever children’s box-office hit that's making a killing on useless merchandise because…?” 

The girl seemed to have trouble swallowing. She lifted one shoulder, a form of noncommittal answer that made Lucifer wonder what she could be hiding. Or why he would even care. But this child had somehow wormed past his staunch aversion to younglings. He felt oddly protective toward her. 

_Is this_ the _human child?_

Lucifer’s blood had run cold at Zerachiel’s words. He might not understand his sudden mother-hen tendency to shield this child from any and all harm, but he’d be damned (again) if he let his one-track-minded sister use her as a pawn in an absurd celestial game. He watched as the little human ate her cake in silence, and the sudden knot in his throat took him by surprise. 

He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples to ease the stupid headache his sister had left in her wake. The type of pain was completely new to him. 

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to call your mum to let her know where you are,” he told Beatrice. 

The child sighed. “I know.” 

With a sympathetic smirk, Lucifer grabbed the phone and dialed the detective’s number. 

His blood rushed down to his stomach as it began to ring. 

**[To Be Continued…]**


	4. You're Deflecting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks. As always, a huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ for all her help and guidance as a beta. I hope you enjoy this chapter. :-)**
> 
>  
> 
> **Note: _The Codex Gigas_ is a real book. It has a fascinating story.**

_You’re Deflecting_

“Bloody call keeps going straight to voicemail.” Lucifer frowned at his phone.

Trixie wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or concerned. Part of her was hoping her mom would pick up. That way, she’d have no choice but to talk to Lucifer, and maybe they’d make up. Sometimes things got complicated, and people didn’t get back together, like Mommy and Daddy. She wasn’t even sure why they had separated, although they had both insisted to a comical degree that their split hadn’t been her fault. The separation was something she had learned to accept early on. Nana had said that Trixie was “wise beyond her years.” The truth was she just wanted Mommy and Daddy to be happy. 

Daddy had seemed happy with Charlotte. Now he was sad all the time, and Trixie didn’t know how to cheer him up. Charlotte had been a nice lady. Trixie was going to miss her. She supposed Mommy missed Marcus, too. He hadn't been as fun as Lucifer, but Mommy had almost married him, so Trixie had jumped on the Marcus bandwagon to please her. Still, there’d been something about him that had made Trixie a little uncomfortable. She sometimes wondered if Mommy had been able to see that side of him as well. The fake side of Marcus. 

Now, Mommy didn’t talk about Marcus at all. She didn’t talk about Lucifer, either. She was really good at disguising her feelings, but she was clearly struggling. There had been a couple of times Trixie had caught Mommy deep in thought, clutching the necklace Lucifer had given her for her birthday. 

Of course, kids could pretend, too. Trixie suspected coming to Lucifer’s penthouse might not have been the wisest idea, but at least it had spared her an evening of play-acting of her own. 

“Maybe she ran out of battery,” she suggested. 

Lucifer appeared skeptical. 

“Yes, perhaps,” he muttered. “Remind me to tell your mum that she ought to change that boring voicemail greeting. That’s the fifth time in a row I almost fall asleep listening to it.” 

“Maybe, she just didn’t hear the phone,” Trixie offered, hope burning. “It could be in her purse.” 

“Okay, let me try Daniel,” Lucifer said with a grimace. The reluctance in his tone was so obvious one might have thought he had accepted a dare to jump out the window without a parachute. 

Trixie pouted, realizing the chances of Mommy and Lucifer speaking again were rapidly evaporating. 

“Daniel, I have your—” Lucifer stopped speaking mid-sentence and let out a guttural growl. “Voicemail. Bloody hell!” He tapped his thumb on his knee a few times and, in the silence, Trixie could almost hear the wheels churning inside his head. “Do you know Penelope’s number?” 

“No,” Trixie muttered. “Sorry.” 

“Are you lying to me, Child?” 

Trixie’s cheeks and ears flamed. She lowered her gaze and licked her lips several times. 

“Please, don’t call Nana,” she mumbled. 

Lucifer regarded her for several long seconds without saying a word. With a little luck, he wouldn’t press her on the matter. Had this conversation been with Mommy or Daddy, they would have asked her a gazillion questions by now. Lucifer, on the other hand, only nodded with a barely audible “very well,” and let the issue slide. Trixie relaxed. 

He sighed. “Let me try your mum one more time.” 

Once again, the call went straight to voicemail. He dialed her home number twice more. Those calls also went straight to voicemail. 

“Bloody Hell!” Lucifer repeated. “Could she be at the station?” 

“I don’t know.” Trixie shrugged. “It’s late.” 

Lucifer tried Chloe’s cell phone for the seventh time. Nothing. 

“Okay, let me try the station anyway,” he said. “It appears that your progenitors—“ 

The phone buzzed with an incoming call as Lucifer was getting ready to dial. 

He let out a dry chuckle. 

“Daniel!” Lucifer answered, chortling. “So nice of you to finally return my call. I hope I’m not interrupting a riveting night of pretending to drive across town whilst sitting on a chair not even _America’s Worst Hoarders_ would claim as their own.” 

“ _Shut up, man!_ ” came the panicked reply. “ _Is Trixie with you?_ ” 

“Funny you should ask!” Lucifer smiled at Trixie. “It so happens your tiny dependent turned up at my place almost an hour ago. I’m no expert, but isn’t it customary for parents to keep better track of their offspring?” 

“Let me talk to my daughter, please.” Dan’s desperation came loud and clear through the tiny speaker. 

Lucifer was more than eager to hand the phone over to Trixie, who took it with a heavy sigh. 

_Crap!_

_She was in so much trouble…_

“Hi, Daddy.” 

“Hey, Monkey. Are you okay?” 

Trixie had expected Daddy to be angry. Maybe not nearly as mad as Mommy, but enough for her to lose Internet privileges for at least a week. She had been bracing herself for their combined wrath, in fact. But all she picked up from his shaken voice was relief. When Daddy told her how worried they’d all been, her fear turned into guilt. So, the moment Mommy’s voice came through the phone, Trixie could barely hold back tears. 

“Trixie!” 

Mommy's voice was strained. 

“I’m okay, Mommy,” Trixie said weakly. “I’m at Lucifer’s.” 

“I know, baby,” Chloe said, half laughing, half sobbing. “Did Lucifer… did he pick you up from school?” 

Trixie shook her head. “No. I came here on my own.” 

There was a brief silence on the line. 

“Okay,” Mommy said. 

Trixie pictured Mommy nodding her head, like she did every time she tried to keep calm during complex situations, or when she tried not to lose her temper. She must be struggling to hold it together just as much as Trixie was, which made Trixie sink a little deeper into that turbulent pool of regret. 

_Just try not to cry._

“I’m going to pick you up,” Mommy told her. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay?” 

“Okay,” Trixie mumbled. 

Returning her mommy’s, “I love you,” Trixie hung up the phone and placed it onto the coffee table. 

“I’m in huge trouble, aren’t I?” 

Lucifer leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Well, it depends,” he said. “Did you have a good reason for running away?” 

“I didn’t run away,” Trixie said defensively. “I came here!” 

“You know what I mean, and you’re deflecting.” 

“What does ‘deflecting’ mean?” 

“It means you want to talk about anything else other than why you came here. And under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t much care. But your mum is on the way here, swearing up a storm, and I’d very much like to know the reason why I'm about to be a target by association.” 

Trixie picked up the fork and pushed around the last remnants of cake crumbs left on the plate. 

“Why are you and Mommy fighting?” 

Lucifer seemed taken aback by the question. He blinked a couple of times, gaze darkening. 

“Well, this conversation just took a sharp turn,” he said, voice low. “What makes you think your mother and I are fighting?” 

“You don’t come over anymore, or call, or text. Mommy always changes the subject when your name comes up. And I heard her telling Maze that she needs time to ‘get over it’. And now Maze is gone.” Too many recent changes to cope with. Trixie wanted things to go back to the way they were, before the “almost wedding”, before Mommy looked so sad and tired all the time. “What happened? What did you do that was so bad?” 

Trixie had never seen this other side of Lucifer. The side that wasn’t chipper, and snarky, and flamboyant. She couldn’t exactly read him, but he looked gloomy when he shifted his gaze toward the night sky. 

“Well played, Urchin,” Lucifer praised, his focus back on her. “But if I open up to you, you’ll need to do the same. Deal?” 

Trixie nodded, agreeing to his terms. Lucifer seemed to ponder, almost as if regretting his own proposal, but too proud to back out now. The silence stretched into long, wavering seconds. 

“A long time ago, I rebelled against my father,” Lucifer began quietly. “I challenged everything he stood for, divided the family and forsook half my siblings to Hell for eternity. As a result, I became a monster. A few weeks ago, your mum finally got to see that side of me. It's quite… terrifying to humans.” 

His words lingered between them, but they made no sense. He wasn’t a monster. Why would he claim to be one? 

“I have nightmares sometimes,” Trixie told him. “About bad people coming into our house and killing Mommy because she's a cop. Then... they find Daddy and kill him too. I spend the rest of the dream running away until I wake up. It’s hard to breathe, and my chest hurts when that happens. So, to stop being scared, I think about how the Devil is Mommy’s best friend. How he’s more powerful than anyone in the Bible. Well, except maybe God.” Lucifer clenched his jaw, but did not interrupt her. “You’d never let those bad guys hurt us. That helps me fall back asleep.” 

Trixie had meant for her confession to be uplifting, to let him know he wasn’t a monster—not to _her_. She did not expect the sorrow that seemed to suddenly weigh him down. Lucifer broke eye contact. There was a faint glint in his eyes, but it vanished so quickly, Trixie thought she might have imagined his initial reaction. His trademarked grin returned, but it shone dimmer than she was used to. 

“ I’m not omnipotent, Child. Nor am I invulnerable, as it turns out. But you can rest assured that I will always do everything within my power to keep you and your mother safe.” 

Trixie frowned. “What’s ‘omnipotent’?” 

“Dearie me!” he quipped, a half grin curling his lips. “Don’t they teach you _any_ vocabulary in school? It means ‘all powerful,’ which I’m not.” 

“But you saved Mommy’s life when she got sick and the doctors told Daddy there was nothing they could do.” 

“Trust me, if I were omnipotent, she wouldn’t have been sick in the first place.” 

Trixie exhaled a wistful sigh. “I wish you were ‘omnipotent!’” 

“Nobody ought to be all-powerful, Child,” Lucifer said. “There is a fine line between will and manipulation.” 

“Isn’t God all-powerful?” 

Lucifer’s expression turned grim. “Precisely.” 

Trixie thought it prudent to drop the subject. She could detect a hint of hostility in his voice that she wasn’t particularly keen on exploring. 

“So, was it a nightmare that brought you here?” Lucifer asked. 

Trixie let out all the air in her lungs through a drawn out sigh. Her grimace did little to prevent the inevitable. 

“A deal is a deal, Urchin,” Lucifer said, raising an eyebrow. “Now it’s your turn to spill the beans.” 

She wanted to tell him. She really did. But the words just wouldn’t come out, as if her brain and her mouth were not on speaking terms, and she was caught in the middle of their fight. 

“I…” she stammered. 

When she got stuck, Lucifer urged her on. “Come on. Out with it!” 

“It’s just…” Trixie winced, her heart lodged in her throat. “I don’t like spending time with Nana and her new boyfriend.” 

She stared into his eyes, which were unusually warm and unusually gentle. He was someone she could trust. Nodding in silence, Lucifer offered her a reassuring smile. 

Whatever else Trixie was about to share got interrupted by the sound of the elevator. The doors opened, and Mommy walked into the penthouse looking pale and gaunt. Eyes wide, her gaze fell on Trixie and then travelled to her partner. 

Lucifer stood up slowly, his expression unreadable. 

“Detective.” 

**[To Be Continued…]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I hope you liked it. See you next Thursday! :-)**


	5. The Concept of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks. As always, a huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ for all her help and guidance as a beta. I hope you enjoy this chapter. :-)**

_The Concept of You_

__

Chloe moved by inertia. Her priority was to get to Trixie, to make sure she was okay. 

_What was she thinking going on a hike across town? To Lux, of all places!_

The drive to Lucifer's felt eternal. She tried to imagine what it would be like to come face to face with him again. She’d rushed into the art gallery, with its dilapidated pillars and shattered statues, and white and crimson feathers carpeting the floor, what seemed like only yesterday. Stumbling upon the carnage left behind by the ill-fated confrontation between Lucifer and Pierce had rattled her. Most of the blood hadn't even belonged to the thugs—a number of whom were still at large—but to her partner. The man, the _creature_ , rather, who had saved her life a few minutes before. A creature who had moved and talked and acted just like her partner. 

_The other side of me is bad… Monstrous, even._

A shadow ran in front of Chloe’s car, and she slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop mere inches from a wild-eyed homeless man who gaped at her through the windshield. The cars behind her swerved around them, horns honking while their drivers spat obscenities as they drove past. Your typical evening on Hollywood Boulevard. 

But the drifter didn’t seem to care about the ruckus. He stared at Chloe, mumbling something she couldn’t quite hear. Only when she cracked the window open and asked him if he was all right, did his words reach her ears. 

“The end is near! The end is near!” he frantically repeated. 

He was clearly under the influence of a narcotic, though he seemed more lost than menacing. Chloe lifted her foot off the brake and stepped on the gas, heart thumping, once the man stumbled away from her car and onto the sidewalk. 

She was still shaken by the time she pulled into the underground parking at Lux. Whether her disquiet was from having almost ran over a homeless man, or from being about to come face to face with the Devil again, she couldn’t be sure. Her body trembled despite herculean efforts to keep her nerves in check. 

The Devil’s reptilian stare popped into her brain, the memory now mingling with the warning words from a deranged stranger. She pushed those thoughts away and steered her mind elsewhere: a bullet pendant, a dance under glitter, a stolen kiss at dawn… 

As she rode the elevator to the penthouse, she wondered for the thousandth time in three weeks whether the whole bizarre experience might be a vivid nightmare from which she was bound to wake up any moment. Or, perhaps, she had died in that gallery, and was trapped in some kind of limbo. Not really Heaven. Not really Hell, despite a cameo by the Prince of Darkness himself. 

Her heart rate increased floor after floor. She closed her eyes and tried to suck oxygen into her deprived lungs. The Devil’s face flashed behind her eyelids once again, his voice so crisp in her mind she could hear him uttering the word. 

“ _Detective_?” 

The creature had sounded just like her partner. The creature _was_ her partner, her… friend. The cognitive dissonance was so surreal it gave her chills. 

By the time the elevator came to a stop, she was practically gasping to get air into her lungs. Clutching to the last vestiges of her dwindling courage, Chloe stepped into the penthouse like she had done dozens of times before except, today, the weight of anxiety was crushing. 

Chloe sighed with relief at the sight of her daughter. Trixie was kneeling by the coffee table across from Lucifer, who rose from the sofa the moment she approached them. 

“Detective…” 

Clad in a deep red robe, he exuded that air of old world elegance that made his presence so damned magnetic. 

_Lucifer..._

Yes. There he was. Her trusted friend. The partner who always had her back. The one person who had never let her down. The man who had captured her heart despite his flawed personality and more-often-than-not insane behavior… Except, he _wasn’t_ insane. He really _was_ the Devil. He had been telling the truth about his identity all along. 

A fresh wave of panic became all too real—the weakening of her knees, the lack of oxygen reaching her lungs, the lightheadedness, the chest constriction… 

_No! No! Get a hold of yourself!_

“Mommy?” 

Trixie was standing now too. Both she and Lucifer were looking at Chloe as if she was just about to burst into song. 

Lucifer took a step forward, seemed to realize approaching her might not be the smartest idea, and froze on the spot. “Are you okay, Detective? Do you need to sit down?” 

Chloe cleared her throat, tried to command her galloping heartbeat to settle without an ounce of success, and imagined exhaling part of her anxiety in a drawn out breath. 

“N-no, I’m fine.” She managed to pull her lips into a smile. “It’s just really late and I need to get Trixie home. She needs to have dinner and go to bed. It’s late.” 

“I already had dinner!” 

“I can attest to that, Detective,” Lucifer said, beaming. “Your spawn had a generous slice of chocolate cake and some pineapple juice.” 

And, just like that, the word “spawn” took on a whole new meaning. Like, in the _literal_ sense, not so much a term of endearment. As to the pride in his voice at the dinner choice, well, how was the Devil supposed to know anything about adequate nutrition for “human spawn?” The food pyramid was most likely a foreign concept to him. As was juvenile diabetes, apparently. Lucifer offering Trixie cake wasn’t born from neglect or even permissiveness. He truly didn’t know any better. Trixie must have been hungry, so he’d fed her. He’d catered to her desire. Because that’s what Lucifer did. He granted people favors. The fact that her daughter seemed to be at the cusp of a sugar rush at eleven-thirty at night as a result of that wish would puzzle him. Because he was _not human_. He was the _Devil._ And everything made so much sense now. 

Chloe let out a bittersweet scoff, and Trixie and Lucifer exchanged a puzzled glance. 

“Uhm, I guess it’s time for you to go home, Child,” Lucifer spoke, breaking a stretching silence that was borderline awkward. “Don’t forget the comic book.” 

He offered Chloe a tepid smile, letting her know he was aware of her struggle. That he knew something was broken, and all he could do was wait for it to be repaired, if at all possible. He understood her distance. Strange. She’d always had a hard time gauging Lucifer’s behavioral cues. But at that moment, he seemed to be telegraphing his thoughts directly into her brain. 

_Could he actually read her mind? Did his “mojo” go beyond what she’d seen so far? Did it work on her now?_

Perhaps she was reading too much into him. 

Trixie strapped on her school backpack and picked up the comic book slowly, as if reluctant to leave. Lucifer went down on one knee to face her at eye level, said something Chloe was unable to hear, and Trixie nodded. She then threw her little arms around Lucifer’s shoulders in a hug that clearly took him by surprise. The embrace was reciprocated by him patting her back in a series of clumsy, little taps. The expression on his face screamed: “I’m not sure what is happening right now, or what I’m expected to do, but I guess this gesture ought to satisfy your need, Small Child.” 

Trixie giving the Devil a hug should have made Chloe uncomfortable. It didn’t. Instead, something began melting inside of her, and the thaw was oddly frightening. 

“Can I come visit sometime?” Trixie asked. 

She pulled the comic book against her chest as they broke apart. 

“My door is always open.” Lucifer raised his gaze to Chloe, and their eyes locked. The warmth in his expression, so different from that inhuman stare that had plagued her recent nightmares, took her aback. 

_Who was the real Lucifer Morningstar?_

His focus shifted back to Trixie. “Perhaps it might be a good idea to check with your mum first.” 

Something tightened inside Chloe’s chest. 

“Cool! Can I come back again, Mommy?” 

Trixie’s pleading eyes were huge with anticipation. Chloe nodded, but she was incapable of uttering her consent out loud. Taking her daughter by the hand, Chloe made her way towards the elevator. Her conscience stopped her, and she swiveled to face him. 

“Lucifer…” 

He looked up from the fireplace and their eyes met. 

“It’s not you,” Chloe said quietly. She swallowed hard. Through a strained breath, she added: “It’s the _concept_ of you.” 

Lucifer’s lips broke into a sad smile in which she chose to read: “ _It’s quite all right, Detective. I understand._ ” Though that assumption might have been wishful thinking on her part. He could’ve very well have meant: _“You’re full of shit, Detective. Bugger off!”_

It really was a toss-up. 

Chloe tried to smile back, but all she managed was a broken wince. 

“Thank you for taking care of Trixie.” 

There was something about expressions of gratitude that always seemed to make Lucifer uncomfortable. Those pesky “thank yous” never failed to leave him short for words. The flash of a frown creased his brow, but he recovered quickly. “Oh, it was…” he stammered. “The urchin and I have developed a rapport.” 

Chloe nodded, once again for lack of a more coherent answer, and let out a long sigh of relief when the elevator doors finally slid shut. By then, her trembling legs were at the verge of collapse. Trixie stood beside Chloe, her full attention apparently on the comic book Lucifer had lent her as she flipped through the pages. 

A dense fog trapped Chloe's mind, and yet, something kept nagging her on the drive home. She glanced at the rearview mirror to find Trixie pensively looking out the window. 

“Hey, Monkey. Everything okay?” 

“Yes,” came the small voice from the back seat. 

“What did Lucifer tell you right before we left?” Chloe asked, curiosity getting the better of her. 

Trixie took a long while to answer. “Nothing, really. We just talked about stuff.” __

“What stuff?” 

“Just stuff. Is Daddy home?” 

Trixie was a masterful deflector. Pushing her when she was reluctant to share something was a futile effort. Chloe decided to drop the subject for now. Trixie would confide in her sooner or later. Chloe wasn’t overly worried. Curious, perhaps. 

“Yes, he is. We were all worried sick about you. As soon as we get home, the three of us are gonna have a serious talk about you running away without telling anybody, young lady. That was _not_ cool!” 

“But I _did_ tell someone,” Trixie protested. “I told Lucifer!” 

Chloe’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “That’s…” 

She bit her lip. Lucifer happened to be in the short list of people Trixie was allowed to trust if something ever happened. They had talked about it. Maze was included in that list too. Not that Maze and Trixie had exactly made amends since the pot-brownies, foot-in-mouth fiasco. In fact, the fallout with Maze had probably prompted the kid to go to Lucifer instead. 

“Okay,” Chloe conceded. “Still, we’re going to talk about lying to the school regarding who picks you up. And _how_ the heck did you get to Lux, anyway?” 

A small voice. “I caught a ride.” 

“You caught a ride? From whom?” Chloe frowned into the mirror and caught her daughter’s mild shrug. “You mean you _hitchhiked_?” 

Losing it seemed counterproductive, so Chloe used all the self-restraint she had mastered in her years working alongside Lucifer, and blew out a lungful of air through tight lips. 

“Right. We’ll have to talk about that as well.” 

Chloe stepped on the gas, giving up on any further conversation until they got home. 

**[To Be Continued…]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Deckerstar coming soon, I promise. See you next Thursday. :-)


	6. Back the Train Right Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks. You guys rock! As always, a huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ for all her help and guidance as a beta. I hope you enjoy this chapter. :-)**

_Back the Train Right Up_

Linda was relieved to see Lucifer. Their last session had been at least three weeks ago. She worried every time a patient missed a scheduled appointment, although, in this case, her concern might have been a tad of an overreaction. For one, Lucifer had actually called to reschedule, unlike the time he’d nearly gone off the deep end after the unfortunate incident in which his brother, Uriel, ended up skewered by a mystical, soul-eating sword that belonged to the Angel of Death. 

_How was her life reality?_

This time Lucifer’s absence was different. Linda figured he was avoiding _her_ , and not so much therapy. His elusiveness probably had to do with his fallout with Maze. Apparently, Lucifer had been ghosting the demon for weeks, and Linda was most likely guilty by association. As it turned out, the Devil didn’t look kindly upon betrayal. 

Aside from all the celestial drama, Linda was eager to tackle his unique brand of issues. Lucifer had come a long way since the rocky start of those first few sessions two-and-a-half years ago. The breakthroughs had been few and far between, but they had proven to be monumental. He understood the human world a lot better. He understood himself a lot better. As a therapist, his evolution was extremely gratifying to witness. 

Their doctor/patient relationship had evolved into friendship early on. Their close bond was likely the result of a very unconventional deal Lucifer had persuaded her to accept at the beginning of their acquaintance. Linda still winced at the ease with which she’d been willing to take his body in return for her services. The arrangement had been completely unethical, and utterly unthinkable, and she never would have partaken in it had she been in control of her own impulses. But she hadn’t been. Not until their friendship had sparked, and only then, she supposed, had he relinquished the mysterious power he’d so easily yielded over her. Her initial acquiescence felt kind of surreal now. The fact that he was a god in the sack didn’t hurt, but she would never have sold herself that cheap. 

Linda supposed, in that regard, Lucifer had come a long way, too. His turbulent relationship with Chloe was most likely the reason why his more devilish impulses had been tamed. His feelings for a human had taken the Devil completely by surprise. 

A lot had happened in a couple of years, though Amenadiel’s departure had been the most devastating for Linda. Knowing that Lucifer was still around made her feel a little less abandoned. It was silly, really. Even though Maze was back to being the overprotective weirdo-friend Linda had come to know and love, the void Amenadiel had left in her life was abysmal. Her best bet to get over the emptiness was to pour all her energy into work. So far, pretending to be okay was getting a little easier. 

“I’m glad you decided to come to the session this week.” Linda shifted on her chair, pad and pen at the ready. “Anything in particular that you’d like to discuss today?” 

Lucifer held her stare. 

“The detective has seen my real face.” 

“Wh—what? _When?_ ” 

“Three weeks ago. At an art studio near Bunker Hill. Right after I killed that bloody human waste formerly known as Cain with a demon blade, and got my Devil face back in the process.” 

“Okaaaay...” Linda was nodding vigorously, but her mind was all over the place. “I’m glad we got the five Ws and the H sorted out.” _Ok, Linda, compartmentalize. Compartmentalize._ “I mean, Maze did mention Cain was ‘no longer a problem,’ but I couldn’t get her to elaborate. You actually… _killed_ him?” 

“Yes.” 

“And, you got your Devil face back,” Linda confirmed, her thoughts still reeling. “And Chloe has _seen_ it?” 

“Wha—am I speaking in tongues?!” Lucifer threw his arms up in the air. “Yes, Doctor! Keep up! She saw me in all my devilish glory, and now she can barely string two words together in my presence without experiencing some sort of brain malfunction!” 

“Sorry!” Linda grimaced. “It’s kinda hard to digest so much information all at once.” 

“It’s been three weeks,” he continued. “She’s clearly still not over the shock.” 

“When was the last time you saw each other?” 

“Last night. When the spawn turned up at my place.” 

_So many questions, so little room for inconsequential tangents…_

“I’m guessing that was the first time you saw each other since she found out.” 

“Your guess is correct.” 

“And how did that make you feel?” 

Lucifer became even more agitated. “How _I_ feel is not really the issue here, Doctor. The issue is how can I get the detective to snap out of spaz mode, and move past the shell shock?” 

“I’m afraid that’s not something under your control.” 

Linda was amused by his transparency. Lucifer’s face was an open book every time he disagreed with one of her assessments. 

“That’s bollocks!” he snapped. “ _You_ got over it!” 

Not by a long shot. In fact, she still expected to wake up from this weird-ass dream any day now. 

“I got over the initial fear,” she clarified, “but I’m not entirely over the shock and, to be honest, I don’t think I will ever be.” 

“It’s not even _me_ she’s afraid of.” 

“Oh?” Linda frowned. 

“It’s the _concept_ of me she has trouble with. Never mind she flat out brushed aside that very ‘concept of me’ right before we kissed the other night.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Linda interrupted, her mind blown once more. “Back the train right up, will you? Kiss? _What_ kiss?” 

But Lucifer was full steam ahead. “I’m the same Devil she has known for almost three years now, which is a blink of an eye in my lifetime, but it’s practically one twentieth of yours, considering you humans pretty much wither and die shortly after you retire from gainful employment.” 

Linda smirked. “Well, geez, thanks for that.” 

“I was just as ready to dismiss that ‘concept of me’ as she was!” Lucifer paused for a rare moment of introspection. Or perhaps to keep his emotions in check. Linda couldn’t tell for sure. He rubbed his temples as if warding off a headache. When he spoke again, his voice sounded earnest. “You know the worst part? For once, I really thought I had escaped my true nature. I was sure we could…” He sighed and swallowed hard. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I doubt the detective will ever stop seeing me as a monster.” 

“Why not?” Linda shrugged. “I did.” 

“Yes, well. You didn’t catch me in full-Devil mode hovering over the corpse of your freshly executed ex-fiancé.” 

“I suppose not.” 

Lucifer clenched his jaw, his gaze lost somewhere in space. “It might not even matter, anyhow. Not if…” 

There was something ominous lingering in the sudden silence. 

“Not if what?” Linda prompted. 

He snapped out of whatever daze had possessed him for a brief moment. 

“Never mind.” He offered her a saccharine smile. 

A loud thump made them turn to the window, where a splatter of blood had been imprinted on the glass. Linda got up to lift the blinds, and discovered a dead pigeon on the neatly trimmed hedges that came up to the window sill. 

“Poor little guy,” she lamented. “That makes three this week. I’m telling you, all those cell phone towers are going to be the death of us!” 

She turned to find Lucifer staring, his expression grimmer than before. Linda could imagine how the recent development in his relationship with Chloe might have brought about a sense of impotence the Lord of Hell was not accustomed to. But that was nothing new in matters involving his beloved detective. After all, the lack of control over her was what had attracted him to her like a bee to a bright yellow dandelion. 

Crossing the invisible doctor/patient wall wasn’t something Dr. Martin did on a regular basis. But, this time, the situation called for a slight bending of the rules. 

“Lucifer…” She bit her bottom lip, pondering her options. “Would you like me to talk to Chloe?” 

He seemed surprised by her offer. “I thought you followed a ‘hands-off’ approach to therapy. Let your patients figure out their pesky little truths on their own, yadda, yadda, yadda...” 

“This is different,” Linda spoke evenly. “Chloe is my friend, too. I had no idea so much had happened these past few weeks. Maze didn’t mention any of this.” 

“Yes, well, Maze is not exactly the repentant type. She’s been MIA as of late. Can’t think of a reason why?” Lucifer’s voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“Don’t be too hard on her,” Linda pleaded. “She is terribly sorry about what happened. I guess that’s why she’s pouring her sou— self into her bounties.” 

“Nice try, Doctor,” Lucifer snarled. “The truth is I didn’t expected Maze to apologize, but I never pegged her as a coward.” 

Linda recognized a dead-end conversation when she encountered one. No point in going down that path. Not right now. One step at a time. 

“The point is,” she continued, “Chloe must be going through hell right now.” 

“That is a bit of an oversta—“ 

“Metaphorically speaking,” Linda cut him off. 

Lucifer nodded. “So, you’ll speak to her, then?” 

There was hope in his eyes. 

============================================================================ 

The club wouldn’t open for another couple of hours. Lucifer walked up to the bar and greeted the new mixologist. He shared a slight resemblance with Oscar Isaac, a fact the young man had exploited every single night thus far without shame. Some patrons had even asked for his autograph. It was actually kind of funny. Bartending at Lux was a coveted gig, no doubt, but how naïve would one have to be to believe an A-list actor would actually look for supplemental income at a nightclub? 

“Hi, Boss! Someone came looking for you.” 

The bartender pointed his chin at two men in cheap suits sitting at one of the corner booths. 

Lucifer grimaced. He wasn’t really in the mood to hear petitions or grant favors at the moment. Last night’s headache hadn’t gone away. In fact, it was getting worse by the minute. He’d never experienced anything like it before. Not even after the shitty batch of LSD that had made its unfortunate way into Lux a few months ago. No. This pain was completely different. It was sharp, and annoying, and... 

He closed his eyes for a moment but, instead of finding relief, an entire constellation of lights exploded behind his eyelids. His stomach flipped, and he quenched down the nausea with difficulty by attempting to breathe through clenched teeth. 

_Bloody Hell!_

“You okay, Boss?” 

The bartender regarded him with a furrowed brow. 

“I’m… peachy.” 

Lucifer gave him a listless smile and lifted the short glass toward him. “Oscar” poured his boss a drink, who downed it in one long swig before heading over to the secluded booth. 

“Gentleman!” Lucifer grinned as if he meant it. “What can I do for you?” 

Both men stood up. The taller of the two, still a couple of inches shorter than Lucifer, produced a police badge out of his pocket and held it up. 

“Lucifer Morningstar?” 

“The one and only.” 

“I’m Detective Da Silva, and this is Detective Moore. We’d like you to come down with us to the station to answer some questions.” 

Lucifer frowned. “What’s this about?” 

Da Silva put away the badge, making sure his holstered gun was exposed in the process, just to dissuade any funny business. 

“You’ve been accused of indecent behavior involving a minor.” 

**[To Be Continued…]**


	7. Lecherous Tosser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks. You guys rock! As always, a huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ for all her help and guidance as a beta. I hope you enjoy this chapter. :-)**

_Lecherous Tosser_

__

Chloe had rushed to the 34th precinct across town as soon as she’d heard the news that “the guy from Lux” had been brought in for questioning regarding sexual exploitation of a minor. The allegation was hard to believe. Lucifer was many things, but he was definitely not a child molester. That wasn’t the type of thing she would’ve missed. In fact, his unapologetic revulsion to kids in the early stages of their partnership had solidified Chloe’s perception of him as a complete jerk for weeks. Of course, Trixie had taken a liking to him from the get-go. She had placed him on a pedestal ever since they first met at her school. 

_Jesus! Had she really known him for almost three years?_

It seemed like yesterday that Lucifer would recoil every time Trixie got near him. Who would’ve thought he’d ever sit patiently while her daughter drew a unicorn on his cheek? Or that he would be sharing a bucket of popcorn with Trixie while she curled up against him during a _Stranger Things_ marathon? 

Chloe squeezed her eyes to keep the sudden moistness at bay. Sorrow had a knack of flaring up like a geyser. 

_Not now. Not here. Get to the bottom of this._

The exploitation accusation was completely bogus. Of that, she was certain. It had to be a mistake. 

She stood behind the two-way mirror looking into the interrogation room where Lucifer had been sitting quietly for the past five minutes. His expression was somber. At one point, he got up from his seat, rounded the table, and started pacing the room like a nervous panther. 

Chloe’s heart did a quick summersault, the knot in her throat so thick it was almost impossible to swallow. 

_If the police only knew who they had locked up in that room..._

Not that she didn’t believe for a second he could break free with a mere snap of his fingers, but still… He was the _Devil!_ The _Devil_ was waiting for the cops to walk into that mundane room and ask him a series of mundane questions pertaining to the human condition. 

The thought would’ve made Chloe laugh, if the situation weren’t so fucked-up. 

Lucifer stopped pacing. His Oxford blue suit was impeccable. Nobody could pull off a classic three-piece suit in the twenty-first century as masterfully as he could. He rocked them. It was a gift as perplexing as his ability to draw out people’s forbidden desires. Chloe wondered what else he might be able to do. She had been witness to his physical strength. He hadn’t lost control in a while, but the few displays of brutal force shortly after they met had flummoxed her. 

_Well, mystery solved!_

The wait was making her equally restless. Detectives often used time to their advantage when questioning suspects. The longer the wait, the more anxious people got, and the easier they slipped up, especially without an attorney present. Apparently Lucifer had waived his right to an attorney. Foolish move, Chloe thought. Even if he hadn’t technically been arrested. Then, a phrase that hadn’t made any sense a few months ago, clicked into place like the missing piece of a 3D puzzle. 

_A mere time-out in her life span._

Lucifer adjusted his left cufflink. The pale overhead light made the gold look silver against his bone-white shirt. The Cambridge coat of arms was imprinted in each one, down to the finest detail. She had always been curious about those, but had never found the right time to ask him about the Cambridge connection. 

_Had he been a student there? A professor? If so, when?_

He stopped fiddling with the cufflink, and his eyes drifted shut. Jaw clenched, he pressed his fingers to his temples with a slight grimace. He looked a little pale. But, then again, so many things appeared distorted under the dead fluorescence of interrogation lights. 

Twenty minutes had passed since they had brought him in for questioning. Chloe glanced at the clock on her phone screen almost at the same time as Lucifer checked his Rolex. He muttered something the intercom couldn't pick up and let out a long exhale. Walking up to the mirror, he stopped in front of Chloe and stared. 

Her heart picked up speed. 

_Could he see her?_

Chloe swallowed dryly a couple of times. 

_No. She was far enough away from the window. Her side of the room was dark. He couldn’t possibly…_

She trembled. This was the closest they had been in three weeks. She hugged herself in a silly attempt not to feel so vulnerable. This was stupid. Even if he could see her, and that was highly improbable, what did she expect him to do? Chat up a storm? 

_Oh, hi, Detective! I know we haven’t been on the most solid of ground as of late, but if you could tell these fine chaps their accusation is utter bollocks, that’d be bloody brilliant!_

Chloe huffed out a strangled almost-chuckle. 

Their gaze met for a few more seconds, and she had to make a conscious effort to breathe. 

_Just breathe._

Lucifer lowered his head, but remained glued to the spot. He was still the handsome partner who could charm his way into anything he set his mind to. His perennial five o’clock shadow was perfectly groomed, his hair impeccably combed, and those almond-shaped eyes were still as intense and hypnotizing as she remembered. Except for the darkish circles that framed them. She’d only seen him this tired on a couple of occasions. 

_Had he not been sleeping? Does he even need to sleep?_

_Yes. Of course he did. She could attest to that._

“They’re just going to ask him some routine questions.” 

Morena Dunn walked through the door with a pile of manila folders under her arm. She had been Chloe’s roommate at the academy. They had both made detective on the same year and, though they hardly ever saw each other after being assigned to different precincts, Chloe had always admired her dedication to the job. As a woman in a man’s world, Morena had worked her ass off to prove her worth. Just as Chloe had. It should’ve made for an epic rivalry during those gruesome weeks of police training, but they both made a solemn vow to confront all obstacles together, and that alliance had turned into a solid friendship. Today, Chloe was grateful to have her as an ally. Morena was a damned good cop. And, though her designation was also homicide, she had been the one who’d given Chloe a heads up about Lucifer. 

“He hasn’t been arrested, right?” Chloe asked. 

“No. They want to hear his side of the story. You know how this goes.” Morena shrugged. “For some reason, he hasn’t contacted an attorney. I’d assumed he knew better.” 

“He does.” 

Chloe couldn’t make sense of why he wouldn’t have called an attorney. What exactly did he have up his sleeve? 

“I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding,” Chloe said. “I know him. He’d never…” 

Never was a long time, she realized. Literally. But she couldn't imagine Lucifer crossing that line. No. Despite everything she’d come to learn in recent weeks, the accusation was preposterous. 

“Chloe,” Morena said, tucking a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear and licking her lips. “There’s something you ought to know before we start.” 

Her tone was dire. She might as well have been waving red flags while loud sirens went off in the background. 

“Okay,” Chloe said warily. 

“One of the alleged victims is your daughter.” 

The words echoed in Chloe’s brain as the room started spinning. Everything blurred out of focus for a surreal second. She chuffed out an incredulous scoff as images of Lucifer whispering mysteriously to Trixie at his penthouse swirled around her brain. 

“N-no.” Chloe shook her head, punctuating her denial with a frown. “He’s come over to our house many times. Trixie would’ve said something.” 

Morena offered Chloe a sympathetic smile. She didn't say what they were both thinking: _“You know better than to use such logic as a justification.”_

Chloe sighed. “Look, I know his reputation precedes him, but he’s not… he’s not a _child molester_.” 

The words left a bitter aftertaste. 

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. 

Morena was the first one to break eye contact. She turned her attention to her oval-shaped mood ring, a gift her mother had left her before passing away. It was supposed to change color based on the wearer’s mood though, in Chloe’s eyes, the ring had always looked dark blue. 

“It’s really none of my business,” Morena began quietly, “but is there something going on between you two?” 

The question hit Chloe in the gut. She swallowed hard a couple of times. “No. We just… I... No.” 

Morena nodded, but didn’t push the matter further. 

“I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding,” she offered in the end. “We’ll get to the bottom of it.” 

“He’d never do such a thing, Rena,” Chloe assured her through a forced smile. 

But her mind was a jumble of confusion and doubt. 

_Hey, Monkey. What did Lucifer tell you right before we left?_

_Nothing. Just stuff._

_Just stuff…_

She blinked back tears as she stared at her partner through the oversized window. He was now leaning against the table, arms folded in a posture oddly uncharacteristic of him. But so were these outrageous allegations. Unfortunately, she had refused to believe many things that had turned out to be true as of late. 

Still. This was Lucifer! 

Chloe felt a shiver run up her spine. 

This was… _Lucifer_. 

The identity behind the name made her break into a cold sweat. 

Two austere-looking cops walked into the room, and Lucifer straightened. They invited him to sit down and, for a moment, Lucifer looked like he might refuse, but soon acquiesced without saying a word. 

“Mr. Morningstar, have you decided to proceed without an attorney?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer confirmed without hesitation. 

“Very well, then.” 

Chloe found out the two detectives’ names were Da Silva and Moore. 

They ran through the preliminaries without a hitch: name, address, age… Officially, Lucifer had just turned forty. Chloe shook her head at that. How long would he be able to keep up that charade? In twenty more years, people might think he’d discovered the fountain of youth. 

“Do you know a woman by the name Audrey Reynolds?” Da Silva asked. 

Lucifer sighed, his patience seeming to run low. “No. Should I?” 

The stockier detective, Moore, slid a picture of a pretty young woman across the table. She had auburn hair and a radiant smile worthy of the best Colgate ad. 

“She claims to know you, Mr. Morningstar.” 

“Many people claim to know me.” 

“She claims to know you _intimately_ ,” Da Silva stated darkly. 

Lucifer smirked. “Does she, now?” 

“I wouldn’t sound so flippant, sir. She’s only sixteen.” 

“And I’m sure she has a brilliant modeling career ahead of her,” Lucifer deadpanned. “But I’ve never seen that girl before, and I’m certainly not a lecherous tosser who gets his jollies by shagging children.” 

Da Silva stared at Lucifer for several long seconds before putting the picture away. He shuffled through the file and took out another picture. It was a headshot of Trixie. Chloe recognized it immediately. The picture was from the yearbook at her school. Lucifer went from aloof to alert before the cop had a chance to slide the picture across the table. 

“Do you recognize this child?” Da Silva asked, his voice even. 

Lucifer offered them a faint nod. “Yes. She’s my part— She’s Detective Decker’s spawn.” 

The cop frowned. “She’s what?” 

“Her daughter,” Lucifer said, his voice low. “Detective Decker’s daughter.” 

“Do you know her name?” 

“Beatrice.” 

“Do you know her age?” 

“She turned nine a couple of months ago.” 

“Do you know her favorite color, bedtime story, food…? 

“I don’t know her favorite color. The detective has said she’s read her a bedtime story called ‘Coraline’ more times than she can count, and the child loves chocolate cake.” 

“Right,” the detective said, nodding slowly. “Is that what you used to lure her into your penthouse last night?” 

Lucifer’s gaze darkened. “I beg your pardon?” 

“A witness has placed the child, Beatrice Espinoza, at your place after sundown. The witness also claims you were in a robe at the time. Plus we’ve obtained security video footage of the girl entering your building at around 8:07 last night.” 

“What you are suggesting is preposterous!” Lucifer snarled. “I would never lay a finger on that child! She’s like my—! I told you! I don’t sleep with children.” 

“I’m afraid we can’t just take your word for it, Mr. Morningstar,” Moore spoke for the first time. 

Lucifer appeared calm, but only to those who didn’t know him as well as Chloe. He was about to snap. The detectives didn’t have a clue who they were dealing with. That ought to terrify her. 

“I do not lie, detectives,” Lucifer said sounding dangerous. “You can—“ 

He hissed in pain as his hands flew to his temples, cutting whatever he was going to say short. Chloe took a step forward. His grimace was one of sheer agony. The halogen lights overhead flickered several times, turned off for a long moment, then came back on. Da Silva and Moore made a fleeting comment about a possible power surge, their attention back on their suspect as soon as the lights came back on. 

Lucifer was breathing through clenched teeth, slowly regaining his composure while the two detectives clearly wondered if he was putting on a show. Chloe knew he wasn’t. 

“Are you okay, sir? Do you need some water?” Da Silva offered. 

“I’m not a plant,” Lucifer snarled. 

The detectives exchanged a bewildered glance, and Lucifer rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t need water!” 

His gaze shifted, past his interrogator’s shoulders, into the mirror. His stare fell squarely on Chloe and her breath hitched. 

“Since you haven’t placed me under arrest,” Lucifer said, “I’d like to leave. Now.” 

**[To Be Continued…]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I hope you liked the chapter. See you guys next Thursday. :-)**


	8. A Single Picture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Thank you for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks. You guys rock! As always, a huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ for all her help and guidance as a beta. And a very special thanks to _valifecent_ for helping me understand the inner workings of Social Services a little better. I might have taken an artistic license regarding the procedures when it comes to this fic, but at least now it is a little closer to reality thanks to her.**
> 
>  
> 
> **As always, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. :-)**

_A Single Picture_

_  
_

“Wow! These are really great!” 

Chloe leafed through the pictures Trixie had drawn during the visit from Social Services. The whole situation was awkward, uncomfortable, and completely bonkers. But the process was necessary. After picking up her daughter from the karate dojo—a convenient extracurricular that was becoming Trixie’s new passion, and granted Chloe a couple of extra hours in the office on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays—they’d made a quick stop at Trader Joe’s and went home. 

A pale, defiant Lucifer in a poorly-lit interrogation room had lingered in Chloe’s mind like a bad dream all day. She should’ve insisted on talking to him at the station. She knew the only reason he wasn’t currently sitting in a cell was because there wasn’t enough evidence to warrant an arrest. Lucifer had not contacted her, either, which would be odd under normal circumstances, especially considering Trixie’s involvement. In the old days, a false accusation would have driven him to turn the city upside-down until the culprit had been found and brought to justice. But these weren’t normal circumstances. Either Lucifer was still honoring his promise to give her space, or… 

_No. Don’t go there. He would never…_

Clenching her jaw, Chloe banished all negative thoughts to a remote corner of her mind. 

A detective had arrived at the condo while Chloe and Trixie had been putting the groceries away. The detective had introduced herself as Patty Sawyer, a profiler for the L.A.P.D. Chloe had never heard of her. Judging by Ms. Sawyer's age, which appeared to be mid-twenties, she was probably a newbie. Inexperienced detectives often got their feet wet with non-violent cases. Appalling as the allegations were, they didn't include rape. In a city plagued by homicides, drug trafficking, and gang activity, this wasn’t exactly a high-profile case. 

Sawyer had brought a young social worker along. Chloe’s heart sank the moment Dana Castillo handed her a card with the words “Department for Child Protection” written in bold black print. The social worker could not have been much older than the cop who’d accompanied her, but seemed wise beyond her years. Most importantly, she had managed to win Trixie over from the start. She had sat with her daughter for a couple of hours, making small talk and asking her to draw pictures of her family, her friends, her coaches, and her teachers. 

Trixie had done as she was told. She had answered all the questions. She had played along, drawing pictures in crayon that featured Chloe and Dan, Lucifer and Maze, Ella with a sushi shirt, her best friend at school, her favorite and least favorite teachers. Even one of Charlotte and Amenadiel, together for only God knew what reason, both smiling from ear to ear. 

The picture that had stood out to Castillo, however, was one Trixie had drawn of Penelope. Her grandmother was portrayed as the central figure, larger than the rest and smack in the middle of the scene. Bill, her “beau without a bow” as the ever-independent Penelope had come to introduce him to friends and family, was to her left. He cast what appeared to be a shadow off to the side. Oddly, Trixie had included Lucifer in that drawing. He was clearly identifiable by the dark hair and the three piece suit. She had placed him in the top right corner, looking down at the two other figures and clearly angry in a way only children can depict—deep frown, downturned mouth, red eyes... 

The picture gave Chloe chills. 

Castillo had been reserved when sharing her interpretation of the drawing in question. She had admitted her concerns about expressing her thoughts until she’d had a chance to discuss it with her superiors. Chloe had tried to sneak a peek at Castillo's notes, but her handwriting was almost impossible to decipher. The only word that stood out was “predator,” and that had made Chloe's heart drop into her stomach. Castillo had filed away all the drawings, along with a couple of questionnaires and consent forms. When Chloe had asked if she could snap a few pictures of what her daughter had drawn, Castillo didn’t object. 

“Hey, Monkey,” Chloe rested her elbows on the counter next to Trixie, who was finishing up her meatloaf and mashed potatoes. “Why did you include Lucifer in this picture with Nana?” 

She showed her daughter the drawing on her phone screen, hoping to get more concrete answers than she had from Castillo. 

Trixie shrugged. “The lady said I should draw my ‘extended family.’ Lucifer’s family, isn’t he?” 

Chloe didn’t know how to answer to that. 

“But, why is he so angry?” 

Silence. 

“Trix?” 

“He doesn’t like it when people lie.” 

Chloe studied the picture again, the figures, the colors, the composition... 

“Who lies?” 

“Most people, Mommy.” 

Getting information out of Trixie when she clammed up could be harder than breaking into Fort Knox. Chloe's cop instincts made her just as determined, though. She was about to ask her daughter why Bill was the only one projecting a shadow, when the doorbell rang. The myriad of questions that ran through her head regarding Trixie and the investigation evaporated from her brain the moment she opened the door. 

“Linda.” 

Chloe was unable to hide her surprise. 

“I’m sorry to show up unannounced.” The therapist broke into a polite smile. “I probably should’ve called first.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Chloe said, stepping aside. “Please, come in.” 

She sent Trixie to tidy up her room, and offered Linda a coffee, which she declined in favor of a cup of tea. They made some small talk about the horrific L.A. traffic, the unusually warm weather for early April, and recent news about abnormal migration patterns in birds that had ornithologists and other experts scratching their heads. 

“Did you really come here to talk about strange animal behavior, or is there something else on your mind?” Chloe half joked as she sat on the sofa. 

Linda stirred some honey into her tea, and adjusted her position on the adjacent armchair. 

“Lucifer came to see me yesterday.” 

Chloe froze. “Okay.” 

“He told me everything,” Linda said. “He told me that you… _know_.” 

A gelid sensation crawled down Chloe’s spine. 

“What exactly did he say?” 

“That you had seen him. His... _other_ form.” Linda lowered her eyes, kept stirring the tea slowly. The scraping of the spoon against the porcelain became deafening in the void of conversation. When she stopped, the silence became deafening, instead. She looked up, met Chloe’s watery gaze. “I know how unsettling it is. I thought you might need, I don’t know, a friend. Someone to talk to. Lord knows I wish I did a year ago.” 

“You… You _know_?” Chloe said in a strangled breath. 

Linda’s expression was all the answer she needed. Lucifer’s true identity wasn’t a secret Chloe had to bear alone anymore. She wasn’t going crazy. The immense pressure that lifted off her shoulders left her shaking. A sigh escaped her lungs and, with it, three weeks’ worth of anxiety. 

“How could I have been so blind?” Chloe whispered. “It was right in front of me all along.” 

“It can be difficult to make a leap of faith of that magnitude. You needed proof. Just like I did.” 

Chloe nodded, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “I _saw_ him. He was…” 

“I know,” Linda said. 

There was kindness in her voice. Understanding. 

“I’ve been trying _so hard_ to move forward.” Chloe swallowed through the lump in her throat. “I thought I was making progress. But a couple of nights ago, at Lux, everything came rushing back!” 

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Linda rushed to say. “You saw the _Devil’s face_. Terrifying doesn’t _begin_ to descr—“ 

“No. I mean the way I feel about him. It hasn’t gone away.” Chloe could no longer hold back tears. “Why can’t I move past it? He’s not even…” She sniffed, wiping the moisture off her cheeks. “He’s not even _human_ !” 

“No. He’s not.” Linda regarded her warmly. 

A frown creased Chloe’s brow. She sniffed again. 

“Chloe…” Linda sighed. “He hasn’t changed. Neither have you. The only thing that has changed is your perception. _That’s_ what’s so terrifying. You said it yourself. It's the ‘concept of him’ that has you in a panic.” 

“He told you about that, too?” Chloe said meekly. 

“I’m his therapist. We talk about everything. We… Anyway, I know more about Lucifer Morningstar than I should ever admit.” 

Chloe tried to smile but failed. “You seem to be okay with the fact your patient happens to be the Devil.” 

“Oh, it wasn’t easy at first, trust me!” Linda nodded. “I lost count of how many nervous breakdowns I’ve had. Even today I have a hard time accepting, well, all of it! But you know the one thing I know for sure?” Chloe raised her eyebrows in inquiry. “Despite all the craziness, despite all his clumsy attempts at fitting into our world, Lucifer is a _good_ friend.” 

True. Lucifer was a great friend. A great partner. The one person Chloe had learned to trust with her life. 

_I can let my guard down with you. That doesn’t happen with anyone else._

“I know.” Chloe sniffed, ran a hand over her burning forehead, and raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m trying to cope as best as I can. It’s just…” Hard. It was hard as hell. “To make things worse, now there’re all these allegations about him and a sixteen year old. And Trixie. It’s too much. I can’t…” 

“What allegations?” 

Chloe exhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose, slowly regaining her composure. “A young woman accused him of sexual assault.” 

Linda’s eyes widened. “That’s absurd!” 

“I think so too. But Trixie has been acting strangely—even evasive—and she’s having secret conversations with him.” 

“With who?” 

“With Lucifer,” Chloe said. “I just don’t know what to think.” 

“Chloe, Lucifer would _never_ —“ 

“I know! I know!” Chloe winced. “But why wouldn’t Trixie tell me what he said to her?” 

Linda shook her head. “I don’t know. But if Trixie felt threatened by Lucifer in any way, she wouldn’t have gone alone to his place. If anything, I’d say that she probably went to him because he makes her feel safe.” 

Chloe forced the fog around Lucifer’s revelation to dissipate, and thought of all the adults her daughter had contact with. The evening she ran off to Lux she’d skipped her karate lesson. Master Tanaka had been questioned regarding her disappearance, but the conversation hadn’t gone beyond that scope. Sometimes Olga, the sitter, let her husband into the house when he came to pick her up, but he’d never stayed more than a few minutes, and had never been alone with Trixie. Then there was Bill, her mother’s new boyfriend, but he happened to be a really nice guy. Besides, he only had eyes for Penelope, in such a sweet way his affections gave everyone who witnessed their interactions a toothache. Plus, he’d never taken Trixie anywhere alone. Sometimes he brought his sixteen-year-old grandson along, but the kid wouldn’t tear his eyes off the damn portable gaming console long enough to notice the world around him. Trixie’s soccer coach was a woman, and Trixie played in an all-girl soccer team. Could one of her teammates’ relatives be a predator? 

_Damn it!_

“Why won’t she talk to me?” Chloe pondered. “Social Services was here earlier. The worker asked Trixie to draw some pictures. There is one… I really don’t know what to make of it. Would you mind taking a look at it and giving me your professional opinion?” 

She extended her phone to Linda, who studied the image carefully. 

“It’s hard to draw any conclusions from a single picture,” Linda said. 

“But... have you seen Lucifer?” Chloe insisted. “He looks so mean, so… _menacing._ ” 

“Try not to make quick assumptions,” Linda told her. “These things are never as black and white as they seem.” 

They didn’t talk about the subject further, but Linda did promise to take a look at all of Trixie’s drawings and consult with one of her colleagues who specialized in child psychology. It was already getting dark when Linda thanked Chloe for the tea and stood up to go. 

“I’m really glad you stopped by,” Chloe said sincerely as she opened the front door. 

Linda was about to step outside when something along the corridor made her stop. They both frowned. The ground was _moving_. Wait, not the ground. Something was crawling on the ground creating that optical illusion. And not just the ground… 

Linda gasped. 

Chloe’s hand flew to her mouth. 

“Oh my God! _Wha…_?” 

She turned on the light in the corridor revealing the swarm of insects lining the floor, walls and ceiling. 

Chloe shivered at the sight. “Where the hell did all these grasshoppers come from?” 

“Those are not grasshoppers.” Linda’s face had drained of color. “They’re _locusts_.” 

**[To Be Continued…]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **See you guys next Thursday! :-)**


	9. Pandora's Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks. You guys rock! As always, a huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ for all her help and guidance as a beta. **
> 
>  
> 
> **I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. :-)**

_Pandora’s Box_

__

The sun was setting over the horizon. The glow of distant forest fires rose from behind the San Gabriel Mountains, not visible from the ground, but easily discernible from the top of Lux tower. The fires were spreading and, judging by the way the wind had picked up, containing them would be an arduous task. The planes and helicopters would be grounded at dusk, ineffective during low visibility hours, leaving the brunt of the work for the teams of firefighters and volunteers on the ground. 

California wasn’t alone battling fires. It appeared half the planet was either burning or drowning. Southern Europe had already lost thousands of acres, while two tsunamis had nearly decimated the vast majority of the Asian coastline, from Malaysia all the way to Japan. Thousands of deaths had already been reported, and the tally kept climbing by the hour. 

“It has begun,” Zerachiel said. 

The breeze blew a few strands of flaming-red hair across her face. 

“You seem to find joy in the destruction of His creation,” Lucifer accused. 

He stood beside her on the terrace, whiskey tumbler in hand. 

Zerachiel’s lips pulled back into a terse smile. 

“Let me remind you of who unleashed this mayhem upon the planet, _Brother_.” 

She spat the last word as if it were an insult. 

“It was one, miserable human life,” Lucifer growled. “One which had overstayed its welcome here on Earth by a few millennia. They usually come with an expiration date, you know!” At Zerachiel’s bland stare, he added, “I mean, it’s not exactly like they’re an endangered species, for goodness’ sake!” 

“Stop. You’ll never be able to justify your way out of this blunder.” 

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” Lucifer said. 

“Isn’t it?” Zerachiel chuckled. She stared down at the city. A fight broke out between two men arguing for a parking spot, and she shook her head slowly. “Humans are strange creatures,” she mused. “They overbreed, starve each other in the name of greed, kill the very planet that gives them life, and way too often they act against their own best interest. Yet, Father loves them unconditionally.” 

“You sound jealous, dear sister,” Lucifer said, sneering. 

“Not at all,” she said, smiling wistfully. “I’m just marveling at the greatness of God’s mercy.” 

Lucifer scoffed. “The bastard has a funny way of showing his ‘mercy.’” 

“Insolence will always define you, Lucifer.” 

“And indifference will always define _you_ ,” he shot back. “Or is compassion such a foreign concept in your book, you can simply stand by and let this abomination happen?” 

Lucifer wanted to get a rise out of her. Her flawless serenity was getting on his last nerve. His sister had not changed one iota. The ever-rational Zerachiel. The perfect little angel who’d never run astray. The one who led those to judgment in the final days. Her devotion to “Dear Old Dad” put Amenadiel’s to shame. 

His sister didn’t take the bait. She just smiled in that holier-than-thou manner she had perfected over millennia, and leered at him. 

“I guess some things never change.” 

“Yes,” Lucifer turned to her. “Our diametrically opposed personalities and Dad’s cruel sense of justice seem to both be universal constants. Too bad for that celestial apathy that allows you to sit back and watch it all burn down.” 

“You, and you alone, broke The Sacred Law, Brother,” she retorted. Her honey-colored eyes were two suns of tempered steel. “Attempting to shift the blame elsewhere will not thwart the inevitable.” 

“Right,” Lucifer jeered. “So, are you here to gloat, or is there a less annoying purpose to your delightful visit?” 

As enigmatic smiles go, the Mona Lisa’s paled in comparison to the one Zerachiel gave Lucifer. 

“You know why I’m here,” she said. “There’s a lot to be done in the coming days.” 

Of course. Those mortal souls weren’t going to judge themselves. 

Lucifer sighed. He would have rather endured the horrors of the fifth level of Hell before asking Zerachiel for help. But these were desperate times. A few years ago he would have popped open a bottle of _Dom Perignon_ and watched the collapse of his father’s creation with morbid fascination. But that was before the stupid affliction that now seemed to consume him. Before this human disease called “empathy” had taken over his soul. 

Gritting his teeth, he dropped all arrogance and resorted to pleading. 

“Please, Zer,” he said quietly. “We need to stop this madness.” 

“Stop it?” she said, chortling. “There’s not stopping this, Lucifer.” 

“No. I don’t accept that. There has to be a way.” 

A whip of pain shot across Lucifer’s brain. He barely managed to swallow the groan that escaped his throat, but was unable to hide his grimace. Eyes shut, he held onto the veranda and leaned forward, waiting for the pain to subside. He despised showing weakness in the presence of his siblings almost as much as the look of concern he found on Zerachiel’s face once he regained his composure. Odd. He could’ve sworn there wasn’t a shred of sympathy left in her barren little heart. 

“You don’t look well.” She rested her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Your luster has dimmed considerably since the last time I saw you. What has happened to you, Light Bringer?” 

Lucifer shrugged away from her touch. 

“Don’t call me that,” he hissed. “I haven’t been the Light Bringer for a long, long time.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m fine. I guess I haven’t been sleeping well.” 

“That’s right. This realm requires sleep,” Zerachiel marveled. “How novel!” 

“As fascinating as Earthly habits are, let’s move onto more pressing matters, shall we? Are you going to help me deal with this mess or not?” 

“Really?” Zerachiel cocked a skeptical eyebrow. “You want to turn this around? _You?_ The fallen angel who’d hold disturbing Nephilim rituals to celebrate every natural disaster?” A cynical smirk flashed across her face. “I don’t buy it.” 

“Well, things change!” Lucifer bellowed. He lowered his gaze. Groveling was rather unbecoming, but he was quickly running out of options. “Please, Zerachiel. There _has_ to be a way.” 

His sister’s bewilderment melted into realization. “Ohhh… This is about the miracle woman, isn’t it?” she whispered. “It’s all over the Silver City. Is it true, then?” 

“Is what true?” Lucifer clenched his teeth. The headache was flaring up. He was tired, and cranky, and in no mood to discuss the latest inane rumor that kept the Silver City abuzz these days. 

“This _human_ ,” Zerachiel said. “Is it true she has the power to make you mortal?” 

Lucifer remained impassive. He refused to give credence to celestial gossip. 

Sure. It was an exercise in futility asking the most inflexible angel in the Heavens for her assistance. Pandora’s Box was now open, and nothing short of a miracle could close it again. Cain’s final revenge. The wanker was probably laughing his ass off somewhere down in the seventh level of Hell. Lucifer could only hope whatever punishment had come Cain's way would make his jubilation a tad less enjoyable. 

Zerachiel’s silence left little doubt as to where she stood regarding the world’s fate. With a sarcastic smirk, Lucifer murmured a listless, “Very well,” and brought the palms of his hands together. His eyes drifted shut as he directed his appeal elsewhere. 

“What are you doing?” Zerachiel asked. 

“I’m praying for time.” 

Lucifer was anything if not relentless. Such trait was one of his least perverse qualities, but it had allowed him to get his way many a time throughout millennia. Many humans, the ones worthy of his admiration, shared this simple philosophy. In fact, the saying: “It's not over until the fat lady sings,” happened to be one of his favorite catch phrases in the English language. 

A third celestial presence appeared in the quietness of the terrace mere seconds later. A tall figure walked out of the shadows in grey celestial robes, his dark wings disappearing behind his back as he approached. Lucifer smiled. Zerachiel bowed her head in silent greeting. 

“I know why you called.” 

Amenadiel spoke quietly. 

“Oh, good!” Lucifer rubbed his hands together. “Then get to it while I come up with a plan to reverse this bloody situation!” 

“I will not use my power, Luci,” the dark angel told him. “I was asked not to interfere.” 

_Oh, Bloody Hell!_

“You can’t be serious!” Lucifer snarled. 

Amenadiel looked grim. It was obvious he hated the situation just as much as Lucifer. 

“I’m sorry, Brother,” he said with deliberate calmness. “I wish there was something I could do.” 

“Says the good little soldier,” Lucifer scorned. “How quickly do you give up on the people you used to care about! Who cared about _you_! Tell me, Amenadiel, is Linda expendable all of a sudden?” 

“Enough!” Amenadiel’s anger erupted like a volcano. “Do not presume to know how I feel about what’s coming! My soul _aches_ for all of them!” His eyes glistened under the moonlight. “But this is Father’s will.” 

Lucifer held his stare as the bitter taste of defeat encroached him. “Right,” he whispered. “So what comes next?” 

“The electromagnetic field around Earth will get weaker,” Zerachiel said. “Radiation levels will soon rise to the point where organic life won’t be sustainable any longer.” 

Lucifer’s chest constricted in a very non-supernatural way. “How long?” 

“A few days,” Amenadiel replied, his voice clipped. He blinked back tears. “Luci, how _could_ you?” 

“He spent millennia murdering humans!” Lucifer snarled. “He killed Charlotte! He broke the detective’s heart! He almost…” Lucifer swallowed hard. “He almost _killed_ her.” 

Amenadiel regarded his brother with kindness and understanding. “Lucifer…” 

“He had it coming!” Lucifer hissed. 

“You enjoyed driving that demon blade through the human’s heart,” Zerachiel said. “You were elated as his soul descended to the depths of Hell. You made sure his damnation was a certainty.” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said darkly. “I did.” 

Zerachiel’s face was impassive. “You’re a monster.” 

Amenadiel grimaced, mouthed his sister’s name in reproach. 

Lucifer huffed a dry chuckle. “Tell me something I don’t already know.” 

The Angel of Justice nodded slowly. “And now you have to live with the consequences of your actions.” 

“It had to be done,” Lucifer insisted. “He had to be punished.” 

“IT WASN’T YOUR CALL TO MAKE!” Zerachiel bellowed. 

An evil grin stretched across Lucifer’s face at her loss of control. He’d finally managed to get under her skin. 

“Oh… Did I step on somebody’s toes?” he quipped, finding a glimmer of joy amongst the frustration. “Tell me, Sis. Is your outrage in Father’s name, or your own?” 

“Does it really matter at this point?” Zerachiel said. “The world is going down in flames, and we all have the Devil to thank for that!” 

Lucifer turned to her, eyes ablaze. The momentary fear in his sister’s eyes gave him immense pleasure. 

“Stop it!” Amenadiel stood between them, anger and disappointment oozing from every cell of his being. He succeeded in easing the tension, but not the animosity. “We need to prepare for this,” he warned. 

“Are you really going to stand by and let it happen?” Lucifer asked him. 

Amenadiel turned to him, his expression pained. “Do you think this is easy for me? For _any_ of us?” 

“Then _help me_ , brother!” Lucifer’s eyes searched Amenadiel’s. “ _Please._ ” 

“Luci…” 

“Please!” 

Amenadiel closed his eyes, his resolve clearly weakened by his brother’s despair. He exhaled a heavy sigh shrouded in patience and resignation. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he conceded. “There is someone who may offer some hope.” 

Lucifer frowned. “Who?” 

“Never mind ‘who’ right now,” Amenadiel said. “Should I be able to make a plea, a message will be delivered to you as early as tomorrow. I can’t promise it will make a difference, but…” 

“Amenadiel,” Zerachiel cautioned. “We have been sworn not to interfere.” 

“I know,” the angel said, nodding. “And I intend to keep that promise. But if I learned anything from our little brother during my time here on Earth, is that there is always a loophole somewhere. I can only pray to find it.” 

Zerachiel set her jaw, visibly displeased. Lucifer sighed with relief. The slight nod of his head was the only expression of gratitude Amenadiel could ever hope to get from his roguish brother. 

Lucifer grinned. “What’s the worst that can happen, right?” 

**[To Be Continued…]**


	10. Some Kind of Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello, guys! I'm posting this chapter a little early this week and, to celebrate that the show is returning on Wednesday, I will post another chapter tomorrow. Then it will be time to binge watch S4!! :-) Thank you so much for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks. You guys rock! As always, a huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ for all her help and guidance as a beta.**

_Some Kind of Game_

Breakfast time was one of the happier routines Chloe used to keep her sanity in check. The coffee maker was timed to go off at 7, and half an hour later, Trixie would be climbing onto a stool and telling her about the latest fourth-grader drama, which usually involved some sort of dispute over lunchbox items. Chloe wasn’t looking forward to the day those quarrels turned into something of a more mature nature. 

But, today, Trixie’s focus was on the graphic novel Lucifer had lent her. The theme wasn’t particularly apt for children, but Trixie was mature for her age. Besides, as far as Chloe was concerned, whatever encouraged her daughter to read was always a plus. 

Chloe placed the box of cereal on the counter next to the milk. They had come to a compromise when it came to breakfast choices. Trixie could have cereal instead of eggs, but not the sugary kind. In return, Chloe had vowed to limit her coffee intake to one cup at home and one at the office, tops. Without Maze there to tempt them both, the arrangement had been working out quite well. 

The thought of Maze gave Chloe’s anxiety a little jolt. Like Lucifer, the demon had respected Chloe’s wishes and had stayed away. Not having her around felt strange. And kind of lonely. Maze had covered her share of the rent for the next three months, which gave Chloe’s budget some highly needed breathing room. Keeping Maze’s contribution when she had practically moved out, however, was neither fair nor honest. Paralyzing apprehension aside, they would need to address the situation sooner or later. 

Chloe sighed. 

One step at a time. 

Her laptop sat on the counter top across from Trixie. Taking her first sip of coffee, Chloe browsed through the information she’d gathered the night before regarding Audrey Reynolds. The sixteen year old was a student at Lincoln High in Inglewood, and her mother had recently been diagnosed with glioblastoma multiform, a rare form of brain cancer. Her father worked for the DMV downtown. She had a thirteen-year-old sister named Kate. Audrey had been a good student, but her last report card had taken a significant dip right around the time of her mother’s diagnosis. Her connection to Lucifer, or how her allegations against him came about, remained a mystery. 

Chloe stretched her back and rubbed the ever-present knots on her neck. She couldn’t remember how it felt not to be exhausted. She was tempted to break the deal with Trixie and go for that second serving of coffee. Instead, Chloe closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and hoped the next cup at the office would make her feel a little less like a used rag by midmorning. She had decided to go to work on a Sunday, not just to make up for lost time, but to try and find out the missing link between Lucifer and Audrey Reynolds. Luckily, Trixie’s soccer coach was taking the team out to lunch after practice. The extra time at the office was a blessing. 

Pushing aside her half-eaten peanut-butter-and-banana toast, Chloe turned her attention to her daughter. Another mystery to be solved. Trixie was shoveling a spoonful of Grapenuts into her mouth, half of the milk spilling over her breakfast bowl. The comic book was beside it, absorbing all of her attention and a few droplets of milk. 

“This book is wrong,” Trixie muttered, eyebrows creased. “Look. Whoever drew Lucifer, made him blond.” 

Chloe rested her elbows on the counter beside her. 

“Maybe the illustrator took an artistic license,” she said. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means whoever drew those imagined Lucifer with blond hair.” Chloe ran her finger over one of the vignettes. Lucifer appeared menacing and commanding. Nothing at all like the easygoing, happy-go-lucky Lucifer she’d come to know. The author, however, had perfectly captured his poised elegance. “Kind of like the pictures you drew last night.” 

Trixie didn’t acknowledge the left turn in conversation. She just turned the page, and ate another spoonful of cereal. 

_Okay. So she didn’t take the bait. A direct approach it is._

“Baby, why is Lucifer so angry in your picture?” 

Trixie shrugged. She refused to tear her eyes away from the pages. “I dunno.” 

Chloe exhaled. That was classic hermetic Trixie. If Chloe wanted her daughter to open up, she would have to pull her mom card. 

“We haven’t really talked about your little excursion to Lux the other night. It was late after I picked you up, and your dad and I let it slide, but it is something we need to address.” 

No reaction. 

“Look at me,” Chloe asked softly. “Trix, please, _look_ at me.” 

Reluctantly, Trixie tore her gaze away from the book and met her mom’s. 

“What did Lucifer say to you before we left?” 

Trixie broke eye contact. 

“Come on, Trix. You know you can tell me anything.” 

“I _want_ to tell you,” the child said weakly. “I just don’t want to make things worse. Please. Don’t be mad.” 

Chloe’s heart did a weird summersault. 

“I won’t be mad.” Chloe tried to sound reassuring. “What did he tell you?” 

==================================================================================== 

Lucifer parked the Vet in the decrepit parking lot at the seedy no-name motel in Reseda. His car stood out like a hooker in a convent against the beat up Corollas, Versas, and Civics that surrounded it. The note had been concise, but clear: 

_34.1494° N, 118.5505° W_ __

_Room 24_ __

_Sunday, 09’00”_ __

Why any of his siblings would send him to one of the most sordid motels in “Raunchville” using a cheesy note worthy of a B-rated movie, was not only baffling, but annoying. Discretion was probably a factor. But, for goodness sake, _Reseda_? 

Lucifer walked over to room 24 and knocked on the door. There was no answer. Brilliant. He could hear a murmuring voice inside, someone either whispering or talking really quietly. Then silence. He knocked again and waited. Nothing. Okay, if this was a prank, exile or not, he would storm through the gates of Heaven and rip to shreds whoever made him waste his time in such a vile way. Another knock, another stretch of uneventful silence. 

_Bloody hell!_

Seething, Lucifer pondered whether to blast through the wretched door, or just leave. The latter won. If there was something he hated viscerally was being manipulated. His siblings knew as much. Whoever had concocted this stupid prank would pay. Earth might cease to exist, but the Devil’s grudge would live on. 

With a nasty expletive, Lucifer turned away. The sound of the door clicking open at his back made him turn back around. 

“Come in,” a female voice came from inside. 

The room was dark—all curtains drawn and not a single light on. The low light wasn’t a problem for Lucifer, whose eyes could see equally well in the darkest pits of Hell, as in the middle of a blue-skied sandy desert. He spotted the young woman standing in the far corner of the room immediately. 

“Are you the messenger?” he asked. 

“I guess you could say that.” 

She offered him a shy smile, her body trembling visibly. 

“I am not going to hurt you,” he said quietly. “Amenadiel must have assured you of that. Things are different down here.” 

The girl seemed hesitant, still afraid. His reputation preceded him, apparently. Lucifer had been ruthless during the Great War. Pragmatic. The Celestial Council had feared his thirst for power way before he, himself, had felt the first stirrings of desire to rebel against his Father. His resolve to destroy the status quo had grown inside him like a cancer. Once he’d realized entire armies were willing to bow before him to fight for a common goal, there had been no stopping The War. He had been cunning. A worthy adversary, according to the heavenly scriptures. But still no match for his Father and his loyal host of angels. 

The quest for free will by those who fought beside Lucifer had resulted in a bloodbath. Those who hadn’t died by the sword had been cast out of the Silver City along with him, condemned to roam the depths of Hell for eternity. That final battle in which he’d been forced to surrender had happened eons ago. Yet, at times, he felt like only yesterday Amenadiel had stood above Lucifer's battered body with a scythe to his throat. 

“Don’t turn on the lights, okay?” the girl said, her voice shaking. 

Lucifer stood by the bed. “All right,” he said. “But time’s running out, darling. Waiting for the second coming is not exactly the best of plans.” 

She walked up to him, her lips glistening with freshly applied lipstick. Before he knew what was happening, she had wrapped her arms around his shoulders and was kissing his neck, his jaw, the corner of his mouth… 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Lucifer yelped. He did _not_ see that coming. He grabbed her wrists, forcing her still until she stared up at him, eyes wide. “Is this some kind of game?” 

The young woman yanked her wrists free of his grasp. “No game,” she whispered tightly. Tears clung to her eyelashes. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to do this. I’m… I’m really sorry.” 

Police sirens could be heard in the distance, fast approaching. The girl ripped open her blouse and stormed out the room screaming. 

“Help me!! Somebody! Please, help!!” 

Realization dawned on Lucifer almost immediately. 

He had been set up. 

Not by a celestial scheme, but a human one. The girl had been alerting the police while he’d been foolishly pondering whether to enter the room or not. 

A patrol car skidded to a stop in front of the room, and two uniformed cops jumped out, guns drawn and aimed squarely at Lucifer. 

“Don’t move! Hands where I can see them!” 

Lucifer had heard the detective recite Miranda rights countless times to the thugs and suspected thugs they arrested on a regular basis. He’d always found the ritual rather absurd. You’re either guilty, or you’re innocent. No attorney is ever going to change that fact. 

The pounding headache that had been following Lucifer around for the past several days intensified. He allowed the cops to cuff his wrists behind his back, and thought it prudent to simply shut the hell up and take things in stride. They couldn't lock him up forever, after all. For one, he could easily afford bail. Well, assuming bail wasn’t denied in the first place, though Lucifer was confident he could bamboozle any judge into setting a reasonable fee. 

Of course, there was another pesky problem to worry about. 

Armageddon was already upon them. 

**[To Be Continued…]**


	11. Do Some Soul Searching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello, guys! Okay, so here is another chapter. The last one this week. Let's all binge-watch S4 tomorrow. ;-)**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Thank you so much to those of you who have left kudos, subscribed and left feedback on this story. And to those of you who are sticking with it, thank you for reading. As always, thank you so much to _ariaadagio_ for her guidance and support as a beta. **
> 
>  
> 
> **Please be warned that, while there is nothing explicit, the story touches upon the issue of child abuse.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Anyway, without further ado, here is the chapter. I hope you enjoy it.**

_Do Some Soul Searching_

The ruckus in the adjoining cells kept exacerbating the pounding inside Lucifer’s brain. He closed his eyes and lay down on the long bench, left leg bent at the knee, right foot flat on the ground. The cold metal against his back was surprisingly soothing to his throbbing wings, itching to be freed from their ethereal realm. He was alone in the holding cell, kept separate from the rest. For his own protection, he’d been told by the freckled young cop who’d escorted him to his current quarters pending a bond hearing. He'd met the remark with a skeptical chuckle, which had made the youngster recite the many ways in which Lucifer was designated an “undesirable”. 

“Trust me, Mr. Morningstar,” the cop had said without bothering to hide his disdain. “Your kind wouldn't be welcome amongst those men.” 

_His kind._

Lucifer knew what kind of monster the kid was talking about. Though, as far as monsters went, he deserved far worse than to be thrown into the lion’s den—a kitten’s den by his standards, really. But the metaphor applied—. Guilt was a dire companion when there was no distraction to keep one’s mind from wandering. Hell’s cosmic joke on those who were tortured by their own conscience had proven as much for eons. The Devil knew the dynamic all too well. 

But Lucifer’s biggest discomfort stemmed from the skull-splitting headache. Breathing deeply did little to ease the agony. Loosening the second button of his shirt, he draped an arm over his eyes and let his mind sail adrift. 

“Call me skeptical, but I don’t see how you’re gonna find a way out of this mess by just lyin’ there, sulking.” 

The comment had been made in a quiet voice, yet it rose over all other noise on the busier-than-normal floor. Lucifer jolted awake, his eyes flashing open. He’d been so wrapped up in his own miserable thoughts, he’d failed to sense her presence. Sitting up on the bench, he frowned at his sister. 

“Azrael?” 

The Angel of Death waved at him from the other side of the cell. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do than wait for human justice?” she asked. “Far be it for me to comment on what your priorities ought to be, but shouldn’t you, I dunno, get the hell outta here?” 

Lucifer scoffed. “And go where, exactly? The last time I believed to have received a message from ‘above’ I ended up getting arrested for taking sexual advantage of a minor.” 

Azrael frowned. “What message?” 

“The note! With the coordin—” Lucifer rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Never mind.” 

“Angels don’t use written notes to send out messages, Lu!” she berated. “You ought to know better!” 

He knew that much, but his desperation had made him reckless, and stupid. An easy prey. 

“Are you here to make me feel even more foolish than I already do, or do you have a less annoying reason for taking time off from what I assume is a very busy apocalypse?” 

A man shouted from one of the other cells. “Hey! Whatever you’re on, share some with us, mate!” 

“Dude feels lonely over there!” a muscled man with a heavy accent chimed-in. 

A choir of laughter erupted almost immediately. 

Lucifer stood up and kept his attention on Azrael, ignoring the jokes of those unable to see her. 

“I’ve been wracking my brain for several weeks, but there seems to be no reversal to this mess,” he admitted. “The truth is I’m out of ideas.” 

Azrael regarded him evenly. “You might be out of ideas, but not out of options. Come on! Do some soul searching!” 

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’ve already said too much,” his sister said. “Just know that the answers have been withyou all along.” 

The door to the cellblock clanked open, and everyone’s attention turned to the rookie cop as he came in, followed by the detective and Ms. Lopez. Lucifer remained bolted to the spot, a bit stunned by their visit. Ella’s eyes widened the moment she spotted Azrael. She muttered a, “This is _really_ not a good time” under her breath, as if Lucifer and Chloe weren’t standing just a few feet away. 

Azrael gave Ella a look that screamed, “Okay, fine! I’m outtie!” before sending one last glance towards her big brother. The Angel of Death then left as quietly as she had arrived. 

Ella exhaled a sigh of relief. Chloe kept her head down, looking gloomy. The young cop stood tall, thumbs hooked on his belt by his holster. 

“You have ten minutes,” he told them, flaunting his meager authority. He threw a glance of disgust in Lucifer’s direction, and then headed for the exit. 

“Detective…” Lucifer said, exhaling. 

He walked to the edge of the cell. Part of him wondered whether she might get spooked by his proximity. If she was, she didn’t show it. 

“How are you holding up?” Chloe asked, looking up at him for the first time. 

Plenty of unasked questions seemed to float inside her mind, not least of which was probably: “ _How come you’re stuck in a manmade cell when you’re the goddamn Devil?”_ Not that she would be crazy enough to voice any of them with “the Breakfast Club from hell” two cells down, and devout Ms. Lopez standing right next to her. 

“Fine,” Lucifer replied. “The décor is a bit too minimalist for my taste, but the dungeon-motif works well enough.” 

Chloe forced out a smile. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear in that casual way that made Lucifer’s insides turn to goo. 

“We came as soon as we heard,” Ella jumped in. 

“You get a phone call, Lucifer,” Chloe reproached. “You could’ve called me.” 

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, studying her for a long moment. “I wasn't sure you would’ve picked up. Besides…” 

He bit back on his next remark, unwilling to dive into certain waters at the moment. But Chloe would have none of it. 

“Besides _what_?” 

Jaw clenched, he broke eye contact, finding the boring concrete floor oddly fascinating all of a sudden. “I wasn’t sure you’d believe me.” 

Chloe huffed out an incredulous scoff. “That’s ridiculous!” 

“Is it?” Lucifer met her eyes again, head cocked. 

The underlying implication was suffocating. 

“That’s not fair,” Chloe shot back. “This is _not_ the same.” 

“No. I suppose it’s not,” he murmured. 

A cloying silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable. 

“Oookay,” Ella spoke. “As much as I _love_ your weird brand of UST, we don’t really have time for slow burns right now. We’ve done some digging on the first alleged victim; it appears she has...” 

The cell walls appeared to close in on Lucifer as he tried to listen to Ms. Lopez, but the ringing inside his ears made it hard to concentrate on what she was saying. His head felt like an overinflated balloon, the pressure causing his skull to throb and his eyes to water. Rubbing his temples barely managed to ease the discomfort. He swallowed hard several times, only catching some loose words here and there: “evidence”… “emails”… “extortion.” 

It was Chloe who first realized something was wrong. 

“Lucifer?” 

Her voice was laced with alarm. She sounded just like his detective, impossible as it was to see her through the nebulous web of his vision. A slash of pain cut through Lucifer’s brain, and his knees buckled. He collapsed with a grunt, unconsciously curling into a fetal position. He thought he’d heard Ms. Lopez say she was going to get help. Chloe kept calling his name, but it sounded distant and foreign. A chorus of indistinct voices rose from the adjacent cells, some mocking, others inquisitive. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered several times, buzzing in and out like an angry wasp, then went dark. Not even the emergency lights came on as the place was swallowed by total darkness, all shouting silenced momentarily mild shock. 

The roar of the crowd turned into cheers when the power came back on a few seconds later. 

Panting, Lucifer struggled into a sitting position, running a trembling hand through his hair, and then stood up with difficulty. 

“Are… are you okay?” Chloe’s voice was heavy with concern. 

“I’m…” Lucifer gulped down a lie. “I don’t know.” 

That vague response was all he managed to choke out as he stumbled towards her. He blinked several times, holding onto the bars for support, and was surprised to feel the warmth of her fingers on his. He glanced up, desperately trying to focus. Gradually, Chloe’s face appeared slightly less blurred through the barrier that separated them. She was staring back at him, eyes wide. But she didn’t look concerned. More like… _shaken_. And then it hit him. The pain had caused his eyes to turn into incandescent coals—red and glowing and bloody terrifying to those humans with the slightest sense of self preservation. 

_Bloody hell!_

Lucifer willed his devil side dormant, his eyes cooling down to obsidian as the headache subsided somewhat. Chloe hadn’t stepped away. She was still beside him, and that was a good sign. A soft thumb brushed his fingers lightly. A sign of comfort. Lucifer let out a sigh of relief. 

“You’re…” she stammered. “You’re bleeding.” 

Lucifer ran a shaky finger over his upper lip. He studied the crimson stain with a frown, unfamiliar with the sight of his own blood in the absence of external trauma. 

_Bloody hell! What the…?_

“This has never…” he gritted, then let out a tired chuckle as realization dawned on him. “The Devil’s kryptonite looks ravishing in a pantsuit.” 

Chloe kept regarding him as if he had just suffered a concussion. “The Devil’s _what_?” 

Lucifer smiled at her weakly. “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled, leaning against the cool bars. His head was spinning as he wiped off the blood with his purple handkerchief. 

“You should go straight home after the hearing,” Chloe suggested. “It shouldn’t be too long, now. We’ve put in a good word with the judge.” She bit her lower lip, studying him quietly for a few seconds. “I suppose a hospital is out of the question.” 

Her assessment wasn’t entirely accurate. He’d been treated by paramedics before. Human treatments worked on him as long as she was around. The moment she stepped away, things might get a bit more interesting, though. Given all the detective had to digest in recent weeks, informing her of her status as “his personal Achilles’ Heel” might be a tad ill advised. 

“I’ll be fine,” he said through a plastic smile. 

Chloe returned an equally reserved smile. 

“I wanted to thank you again for taking care of Trixie the other night,” she said. “I was really worried about her. I should’ve checked with you sooner, I just… Anyway, thank you.” 

“You don’t need to thank me, detective.” 

“I think I do,” she insisted. “Before we left, you told Trixie to be open with me.” Chloe searched Lucifer’s eyes, but he remained unreadable. “The thing is, she still hasn’t told me about _what_.” 

“That’s unfortunate,” Lucifer said quietly. “I was sure she would talk to you about it the night you came to pick her up.” 

“Talk to me about _what_?” Chloe held onto the bars that separated them. “Please, Lucifer! I need to know!” 

Lucifer lowered his head, the devil within desperate to burst out at the memory. 

“She looked into my eyes, detective,” he finally said. “More importantly, I looked into hers.” He hadn’t been prying. Trixie’s transparency had shocked him. The child was pure light. Her innocence had felt like a punch in the gut. “I’m not talking as your partner right now, or even as your… _friend_.” Lucifer regarded her with longing. “Allow me, as the _Devil_ , to offer you a piece of advice.” Chloe was looking up at him, her anxiety evident in the blue depths of her eyes. “Keep your spawn away from Penelope’s new acquaintance,” Lucifer told her. “She's not safe.” 

Chloe opened her mouth a couple of times to say something, but thoughts didn’t seem to translate into words. “Bill?” she finally blurted. “But he’s been so—” 

“Not he,” Lucifer dismissed right away. “The _young_ one.” 

The color drained from Chloe’s face. 

“The shadow…” she muttered. 

**[To Be Continued…]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **See you next week! :-)**


	12. The Vault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hi, there!**
> 
> **So, how did you guys like that season 4? I loved it! I thought they did a wonderful job with all the characters and I can only hope they renew the show for a fifth season. As far as this fic, thank you all for the wonderful feedback! I'm so happy you are liking the story. Your comments always put a smile on my face.**
> 
> **You'll see some parallels between this fic and S4, but that's how the cookie has crumbled. I wrote it before the season dropped, so those elements have been purely coincidental. Still, it was fun to see the writers going in a different direction than I had in mind after Cain's death. :)**
> 
> **A very special thanks to my two wonderful betas _ariaadagio_ and _BelenP_ , for always keeping me honest and not holding back any punches.**
> 
> **Please be warned that, while there is nothing explicit, the story touches upon the issue of child abuse.**
> 
> **Anyway, without further ado, here is the chapter. I hope you enjoy it.**

_The Vault_

A number of somber-looking attorneys lined up the hallway that led into the Orange County courthouse. Neither Chloe nor Ella paid much attention to lawyers. Ella sat on one of the plastic seats playing chess on her phone, while a balding man clutching a leather briefcase sat next to her. He was trying his hardest not to fall asleep, jolting awake every time gravity pulled his head towards his chest. Chloe stood near the door, her thoughts swinging from Lucifer’s collapse at the holding cell, to the information he had shared with her regarding Bill’s grandson. 

Chloe had just hung up with her mother. The sensitive nature of the issue had prevented her from getting into any specific details. The whole conversation had been vague and contrived. Thwarting Penelope’s questions had not been easy. In the end, Chloe had invited her mom over for dinner to discuss Trixie’s situation in regards to the sixteen year old in a more private fashion. Uncomfortable as it was to tackle the subject, the problem had to be addressed sooner rather than later. Of course, there was always the possibility that Lucifer was wrong about what he “saw” in Trixie’s eyes. Who knew how his mojo worked? But Chloe was not about to take any chances. Not when it came to her daughter’s safety. 

“I knew I would find you here.” 

Chloe turned at the sound of Morena’s voice, who was approaching with a cup of coffee in one hand, and a stack of folders under her arm. Her mood ring shone dark blue under the filtered light coming from the window panels at the end of the hallway. 

“Rena, hi!” Chloe tried to return the smile, but her mind was way too preoccupied with a thousand other things to be able to pull one off naturally. 

“How are you holding up?” 

“I’m… fine,” Chloe replied. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Morena gave her a look that spoke volumes. Her friend could read through people with psychic-like precision. Except, unlike Lucifer’s mojo, Morena’s confounding “super-power” _did_ work on Chloe. 

Giving up on all pretense, Chloe decided to cut to the chase. “He’ll be able to post bail. Money’s not an obstacle to him.” 

“Right.” Morena nodded. Whatever was crossing through her mind at that time, she didn’t share. 

“I’ll convince him to get an attorney the second we get out of here.” 

“That’s probably the best thing you can do for him.” 

Chloe could sense Morena’s disapproval at her choice in relationships. Or, at least, when it came to _this_ particular relationship—if one could call it that. Her colleague had always liked Dan. In her eyes, Dan was safe. He was a cop. There was a kinship there that didn’t exist with Lucifer. Before the whole Palmetto fiasco, Dan had been the “golden boy” of the 16th precinct. But, as experience had proved many a time, one should not judge a book by its cover. Dan had hurt Chloe in ways Lucifer never had. 

“Try not to judge him just by reputation,” Chloe felt the need to say. “He’s… He is a _great_ partner.” 

“I’m not judging him, Chloe. Nor you, by that matter,” Morena assured her. “And, whatever there is between the two of you is really none of my business. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

That now familiar pang of anxiety flared to the surface for a brief second, and the threat of tears prickled the back of Chloe’s eyelids. “I will be.” 

The affirmation was an attempt to convince herself as much as Morena. An unspoken agreement solidified to lay the matter to rest. 

“Anyway, I better get these filed before noon,” Morena said motioning to the stack of files under her arm. “Good luck with the hearing. If you need to talk about… anything, just give me a call, alright?” 

Chloe promised to keep her posted, though she was not one to overshare in the “personal” department. 

By the time people were finally allowed into the tiny courtroom, Chloe’s anxiety levels had risen considerably. But that’s the weird thing about anxiety—it’s often impossible to put a finger on its exact cause, and Chloe could blame her suffocating chest constriction on a laundry-list of reasons. Her concern for Trixie made up a large percentage of her distress, but she couldn’t deny being worried about Lucifer, especially after the strange episode he’d suffered earlier while in the holding cell. Chloe couldn’t remember him feeling sick before, which should have raised a few red flags, particularly after the flu outbreak in the winter of 2018, which had pretty much incapacitated the _entire_ precinct. Chloe, herself, had been unable to get out of bed for two days straight. Charlotte had followed suit a couple of days later. Dan had ended up in the ER with severe dehydration. Ella had had a reaction to the medication she had been taking. 

Lucifer hadn’t even caught the sniffles. 

Chloe pulled out her phone and checked the time. The judge was running a few minutes late, so she began sorting her gallery for lack of a better pastime. She flipped through a year worth of pictures, from Trixie’s recitals and soccer games, to objects of interest during investigations and pricing on products at the supermarket. She had just deleted a series of shots of her current apartment right before she and Maze had moved in, when a picture of Lucifer popped up. The picture had been taken inside the forensics lab. He'd seemed to be unaware the picture was being taken. He'd stood next to Ella, who'd appeared to be telling him something fascinating about the piece of red cloth she'd been holding. A relaxed Lucifer had listened to her with a faint grin on his lips. The Devil was as photogenic as he was magnetic. But it was the warmth in his eyes that made Chloe break into a tender smile. She wasn’t even sure why she had taken the picture, but it had captured her partner’s angelic essence. It was the side of the Devil no scripture ever talked about. 

“All rise!” the bailiff’s voice boomed throughout the room, pulling Chloe out of her reverie. “Honorable Judge Mary-Louise Clapper presiding.” 

The bond-hearing docket moved along smoothly. Chloe and Ella sat on the second pew, right behind the defendant's attorneys. People quietly filled the cramped courtroom. A gaunt young woman walked in about twenty minutes after the court had been in session. She sat at the back of the room, a couple of pews behind Chloe and Ella. Her stringy hair fell down the sides of her face, making her look mousy and unkempt. She wore loose jeans and an oversized Lakers jumper that had seen better days. The girl looked gaunt and haunted, like someone with a million secrets bottled up. Her rigid back never touched the pew as she sat rod-straight, completely unaware of Chloe’s scrutiny. Her pale round eyes were fixed on the judge. 

“That’s Audrey Reynolds,” Ella whispered. “What’s she doing here?” 

Chloe shook her head slowly. Her response was cut-off by the announcement of the next defendant. 

“Lucifer Morningstar,” the judge read out loud. Squinting at the file, she adjusted her glasses, making sure she had read the name correctly. “Well, that’s a name one doesn’t come across every day.” 

Lucifer was brought into the room, hands cuffed at his lap, by the same large, mustachioed cop who’d been leading in defendants all morning. Chloe managed to make eye-contact with Lucifer for a fleeting second, but his expression remained impassive as he took a stand before the judge. 

“It says here you’ve waived your right to an attorney, is that correct?” Judge Clapper asked. 

“Yes, your honor.” 

“These are serious charges, Mr. Morningstar, are you sure—” 

Before the judge had a chance to finish the sentence, a violent tremor shook the building. People who were standing were knocked off their feet, a deep gash opened on the far wall near the judge’s podium, and the huge window panels cracked into a web. Walls crumbled to the tune of a stampede of people rushing to the nearest emergency exits. 

Someone elbowed Chloe in the ribs hard enough to make her eyes water. Ella grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her into the panicking crowd in search of a way out of the building. Turning her head, Chloe searched for Lucifer, but the swarm of people kept pushing her in a single direction amongst desperate wails and cries for help. They started trampling over each other as they reached the stairway, flooding the tight space in a frantic wave. Another violent tremor sent most people tumbling down the stairs. Chloe and Ella were caught in the human avalanche, getting separated as they fell down several steps. 

“Ella!” Chloe’s shout was drowned by the shrieking crowd. 

A pillar toppled down in front of Chloe, crushing two women and one man right before her eyes. The building was collapsing, and she wouldn’t have enough time to make it out alive. Her thoughts were in a jumble as she rushed with the flow of people towards the elusive exit, fearing the worst. Chloe watched with impotence as another enormous pillar began toppling down, this time right above her head. Unable to escape, she whimpered with fear. Trixie’s smiling face was playing in her mind’s eye as she braced herself for the inevitable. 

Chloe wasn’t quite sure where the shadow that stood above her crouching body had come from. She felt the warmth of a body shielding hers, heard the strident sound of the pillar smashing into pieces all around her, the yelps of the crowd. She gasped, unable to understand what had just happened. Someone was kneeling at her back, holding her, _shielding_ her… Chloe didn’t need to turn around to know who had just saved her life. 

“Lucifer,” she whimpered. 

“Come on!” Lucifer pulled her up by the wrist, almost dislocating her shoulder in the process. 

Chloe tripped over the debris that plagued the hallway, nearly falling a couple of times. 

“Wait!” she panted. “The exit is that way!” 

“We’ll never make it,” Lucifer replied, dragging her into the evidence room. “Inside the vault! Now!” 

Easier said than done, Chloe thought. They’d need the security code in order to… 

_Oh! Okay._

It took a single extra turn of the lock-wheel for Lucifer to break the bolts within as if they were made of plastic. The door to the vault slid open. He practically shoved her into the steel-covered space while thick chunks of ceiling rained all around them. 

“Ella is still out there!” Chloe cried in a panic. 

“I’ll try to find her,” Lucifer told her. “Just, stay here!” 

“Lucifer!” Chloe called as he turned to exit the vault. “Be careful, okay?” 

She hadn’t been able to keep her voice from shaking. Or the rest of her body, for that matter. The surprise on his face was evident as he turned to her. With a nod and a small smile, he disappeared into the storm of dust and debris that swirled all around their reinforced-steel shelter. Chloe thought about closing the door to prevent the toxic air from entering the vault but, one, the darn thing was way too heavy to be pulled from the inside and, two, there was a high probability that the entrance would get blocked by falling debris. Plus, it would be easier for Lucifer to enter the vault upon his return. 

Chloe caught herself praying for the Devil’s return. She prayed to a God she had never before acknowledged. She prayed for Ella to be okay. She prayed for Trixie, and her mother, and Dan… She prayed like the world was about to end. 

Metal beams and chunks of concrete kept falling outside the unintended shelter. Chloe’s eyes and lungs burned. A coughing attack racked her body, stripping her throat raw. She kicked herself for not holding onto the bottle of water she had purchased earlier outside the courtroom. Pulling her shirt over her nose and mouth, she scooted back quietly in the darkness as the world fell silent around her. 

_No! Where was Lucifer? Why wasn’t he back?_

Only the flimsy blue light of her phone seeped through the darkness. Dust particles floated all around the tenuous glow, which barely managed to illuminate her surroundings. There was zero cell tower reception, and the battery was at 27%. Chloe felt small and alone, but fear had never thwarted her survival instinct so, clamping down on her despair, she assessed her surroundings. 

The entrance was partially obstructed by debris, but there was room for a medium-sized person to squeeze through the opening. Whether the path to the building’s exit remained unobstructed was another story. The entire building seemed to have collapsed in itself. Chloe pointed the phone to the inside of the chamber. Two rows of shelves stacked with countless evidence bags and boxes lined up the walls of the vault. She waited a few minutes to make sure the tremors had ceased. No point getting out of there only to be crushed by a chunk of building on her way out. Or, at least that’s what she kept telling herself. The truth was that she still clung to the hope of Lucifer’s return. Wiping a stray tear from her cheek, she made her way to the opening. 

A rustling sound came from the other side, faint at first, then more distinct. A person slid through the tight space into the vault, except it seemed whoever was coming in was being _pushed_ through. Chloe’s eyes widened, and she let out a strangled whimper when her phone shed light on the person’s face. 

“Ella!” 

The lab tech appeared to be unconscious. Her forehead was covered in blood, where an ugly gash ran from her eyebrow to her hairline. Her nose and cheeks were covered in ash, and soot, and dust. Her limp body entered the vault followed by Lucifer, who squeezed through the opening with difficulty. 

“She’s still breathing,” Chloe choked. She was trying hard not to break down. “We need to get out of here.” 

“There is another earthquake coming,” Lucifer informed her. “If it happens before we make it out to the street, we’ll be buried under the rubble.” 

Chloe’s eyes filled with tears. “But she needs help!” 

“I know,” Lucifer said somberly. 

“How do you know there's another earthquake coming?” 

Lucifer just looked at her, but did not reply. Of course he knew. The Devil would know, she supposed. 

Chloe tried hard to hold back tears. Her trembling fist pressed against her mouth in a futile attempt to keep her emotions in check. Lucifer’s arm slid over her shoulders, gently nudging her into him, and she lost the battle. Pressing her face against his chest, she thought of the possibility of never seeing Trixie again, and cried until her tears ran dry. 

**[To Be Continued…]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **See you next Thursday, guys! Please drop me a line if you're still on board and liking the fic. As you know, it makes my day to hear from you. ;-)**


	13. Heaven's Brightest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks. You guys rock! As always, a huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ and _BelenP_ for all their help and guidance as a betas. **
> 
> **I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. :-)**

_Heaven’s Brightest_

_   
_

“No reception,” Chloe said looking down at her phone. Her eyes were gritty and swollen from crying. She sniffed. “How about you?” 

Lucifer was sitting on the floor beside her. “They took my phone away when—” 

“Oh, right!” Chloe blurted out with a wince before he had the chance to finish. 

Ella lay before them, still unconscious. No phone on her either. They had used Chloe’s jacket as a makeshift pillow, while Lucifer’s covered her small frame almost in its entirety. Chloe ran a hand over the lab tech’s ashen cheek. Ella's skin felt cool to the touch. 

“We should wake her up in a little bit,” she said. “Just to make sure she can be easily roused. What if she becomes non-responsive?” 

“She’s okay, Detective,” came Lucifer’s listless reply. 

“How do you know?” Chloe shot back, sounding a little harsher than she had intended. 

Lucifer’s fingers were fiddling with an evidence bag containing an ornate letter opener—one of the many items scattered all over the floor of the vault as a result of the earthquake. He stole a sideways glance at her, though his attention returned to the dull blade almost immediately. 

“Because I don’t see my sister or any of her delegates here,” he replied. 

“Your sister.” Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “As in…” 

“The Angel of Death.” 

“Right,” Chloe huffed out an incredulous little scoff. _But, of course!_ “How would she even get in here?” 

“Azrael can apparate.” 

“She can _what_?” 

Lucifer exhaled, sending Chloe a mildly exasperated look. “I can draw out people’s desires, Amenadiel can slow down time, and Azrael can teleport,” he answered. “Her choices tend to be work related, though.” 

“Right…” 

The vault was dark, save for the bluish glow from Chloe’s phone, which was rapidly running out of battery. It occurred to Chloe that the earthquake must have been massive for the anti-seismic safeguards of the building to have been rendered so ineffectual. 

Slight tremors shook the ground every few minutes, a prelude to what Lucifer had warned would be another major earthquake. Trying to get out of there before it happened would be too risky, as they could end up getting crushed under a new avalanche of rubble. The reinforced steel structure of the vault appeared to be the safest, for now. 

“Maybe your sister doesn’t want to be crushed under a crumbling building.” Chloe caressed Ella’s hair, offering the little comfort she was able to, trying not to drown in the overwhelming sense of impotence. “Can you blame her?” 

“Some angels are not bound by matter. The laws of physics don’t apply to them.” 

“ _Some_ angels? What about _you_?” Chloe cocked her head. “Couldn’t you just walk out of here as if several tons of concrete and steel weren’t about to implode around us at any moment?” 

Lucifer turned to her, his expression unreadable. 

“No,” was his quiet reply. “And, even if I could, I wouldn’t leave you behind.” 

The intensity of his gaze and the weight of his words paralyzed her. Her heart picked up speed, flushing a tide of unidentifiable sensations through her pulsing veins. 

She cleared her throat. “When will it happen, anyway? The next earthquake, I mean.” 

“It’s hard to say for certain.” 

“But... how do you know it will happen?” 

The pale light of the screen illuminated Lucifer’s grim expression. “I can sense it.” 

“Okay.” Chloe nodded. “Sort of like a superpower? Like ‘apparating,’ or getting people to spill the beans when they don’t really want to?” 

“No.” Lucifer’s expression turned dark. “This is different. I have no control over it. The sensation has power over me, not the other way around. It circumvents celestial laws.” 

Chloe didn’t fully understand what he meant by that. She struggled to understand so many things these days. 

“Why is this happening?” she asked, quietly. 

Perhaps Lucifer hadn’t heard the question. Perhaps everything, from the rising of the oceans to the eruption of volcanos and earthquakes and droughts around the world, had to do with humanity’s sins, and he simply didn’t want to be a downer by rubbing man’s shortcomings in her face right now. In any case, Chloe had given up on getting an answer by the time he spoke again. 

“The universe is a big, cosmic joke, Detective,” he said in the end. “And I should’ve known better.” 

“Better than what?” 

“Than to believe I was above the Law,” he replied, his tone subdued. “That somehow my actions were justified.” 

“Wait… are you saying you’re the one to blame for this?” she asked. “H—how? _Why?_ ” 

And, more importantly, what _else_ was going on out there? 

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked tired and worn, and in no mood for conversation. 

“Can we please not talk about this right now?” he said. 

Chloe was tempted to push the subject. She needed to know. People she loved could be in a similar situation, trapped under a building somewhere. She thought of Trixie, and her heart clenched with uncertainty and helplessness. 

Chloe managed to convince herself that dwelling on the unknown was a waste of time. Instead, she went over the options available to them. As far as she could tell, those options were limited. 

“So, after the quake happens,” she said steering the conversation towards the practical, “assuming we don’t end up buried alive in here, will there be a time window to try and crawl our way out?” 

“Don’t worry, Detective.” Lucifer sounded solemn. “I'll get you and Ms. Lopez out of here.” 

Chloe nodded. She wanted to believe him, but her mind was miles away. “I just need to get to Trixie.” Her voice broke on her daughter’s name. “I don’t even know if she’s okay. I can’t get through to Dan, or mom. She and Bill were going to pick her up from school today and…” She swallowed hard, trying not to lose it again. “I haven’t even had the chance to warn mom about… about…” 

Chloe covered her face with her hands, thoughts of Trixie trapped under a pile of rubble flashing through her mind, only to be replaced with images of Trixie trapped in a room alone with a teenage predator. 

“Come now, darling,” Lucifer whispered. He softly grabbed her wrists and pried her hands away from her face. Their eyes met, and he offered her a reassuring smile. “We’re going to get to that little spawn of yours soon, all right?” 

She was either desperate to believe him, or too exhausted to question him. All she could muster was a tepid half-smile that was chased away when the ground shook once again, then settled. 

“Was that it?” she said. 

Lucifer clenched his jaw, his brow creased as if he were in pain. “No,” he gritted. “Not much longer now.” 

Chloe stared down at a picture of a smiling Trixie on her phone. “The stupid wait is the worst.” 

“A method of torture commonly used in the fifth level,” Lucifer replied quietly. He spat out a low curse. “You weren’t even supposed to be here in the first place! Those bloody allegations are a joke!” 

“I know,” she said. 

“You shouldn’t have come, Detective. The whole thing is absurd! I would _never_ —” 

“I _know_!” Chloe insisted. “But as your partner, as your _friend_ , I had to be here.” 

He seemed surprised by her admission, though not fully convinced by her justification. Either way, she was relieved to notice his body releasing some tension. 

“The girl lied about something…” he said, struggling to form the words. “…something she shouldn’t have lied about.” 

“It was wrong of her to accuse you,” Chloe admitted. “But I don’t think she did it out of malice, or to play the victim.” 

“I don’t care why she did it, Detective. She lied!” 

Chloe winced. He had all the right to be upset. She couldn’t really blame him. “Listen, I’ve been looking into the whole thing since I learned about the laundry list of charges,” she told him. 

“Yeah,” he snarled. “I was painted to be a degenerate!” 

Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to point out that, when it came to sex, most people would find his proclivity pretty much “over the top”. But sleeping with children crossed a line Chloe knew he would never step over. Not because of some feeble human law, but because ever since she had met Lucifer Morningstar, he had never taken advantage of the vulnerable. 

“Lucifer, I’m pretty sure the girls were being manipulated into going to the police with the false accusations.” 

“Manipulated?” Lucifer frowned. “By whom?” 

“At this point it’s only a hunch,” Chloe replied. “There is a money trail that links the two alleged victims. They both received a five-thousand-dollar money transfer from the same bank account two weeks before the charges were filed, and then another five-thousand-dollar transfer, again, from that bank account the day you got arrested.” 

“All right, don’t leave me hanging,” Lucifer urged. “Who’s behind this?” 

“That’s just it. The account is under a corporation, so I didn’t have time to dig much deeper, but…” She bit her lip, uneasy about making any preliminary accusations. “It appears to belong to a record company.” 

Lucifer’s expression darkened. It sent a chill up Chloe’s spine. 

“Jimmy Barnes,” he hissed. 

“Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet,” she said. “We don’t know if—“ 

“That _bastard_!” 

“Lucifer…” 

“No, Detective!” he snarled. “First he almost kills you, and now this?” 

“You are jumping to conclusions. We need to verify who that account belongs to. For all we know, Barnes is still at the mental hospital!” 

“How much more evidence do you need? That human stain has a score to settle! Don’t be blind to the obvious, Detective! ‘Jumping to conclusions’ is not always a bad thing. Ask your spawn!” 

Chloe blanched, his words hitting her in the gut like a sledge hammer. Lucifer must have noticed her reaction, because his belligerent expression melted into a regretful wince. 

“I’m sorry,” he rushed to say. 

The phone chose that moment to finally die, and Chloe wasn’t sure whether to feel dismayed or relieved. The inside of the vault was left in complete darkness. She was struggling to swallow down the painful knot that was firmly lodged in her throat. With a curse, she stuffed the useless phone into her pocket. Drained and defeated, she allowed fresh new tears to run silently down her cheeks. 

“Please, don’t cry, Detective,” Lucifer murmured. “I didn’t mean to…” 

He reached out to touch her face, using his thumb to wipe away a loose tear. She tried to focus on his face, but all her eyes could see was a thick, impenetrable blackness. 

“How…?” Chloe frowned, confused. “Can you… _see_ me?” 

“Yes, of course,” came his reply. Her confusion left her speechless for a few moments, and Lucifer seemed to pick up on her puzzlement. “I… My eyes are accustomed to darkness. Hell is not exactly the brightest of realms. And I mean that in every sense of the word.” 

Chloe couldn’t see his smirk, but she could sense it in his tone. The tension in her shoulders eased a little when a sad chuckle escaped her lips. 

“I hate darkness,” she confessed. “I sleep with the bathroom light on at night. It’s wasteful; I know.” 

Lucifer shifted beside her. “Well, I doubt there is a working switch we can flip in here, but perhaps I might be able to help.” 

There was a rustling sound, and something brushed against Chloe’s back. A soft glow began to grow behind them, intensifying slowly and bathing the space inside the vault in warm light. Her mouth dropped the moment her eyes were able to see where the source of the radiance was coming from. 

Two massive wings spread out from Lucifer’s back, spanning the width of the vault, cramped by the limited space of its confines. Chloe tried to tear her gaze away, but their beauty was so captivating she simply sat there, speechless, paralyzed as if under a spell. 

“Detective?” Lucifer called, his voice soft. When she didn’t react, he tried again. “Are you—?” 

“They’re so…” 

“Large?” Lucifer frowned, craning his neck to inspect his celestial limbs. “I’m afraid they weren’t meant to be unfurled in such a tight—“ 

“Gorgeous!” she choked out, completely transfixed. 

“Oh!” Lucifer blinked, unfazed by her assessment. “Yes, of course. They were head turners in the Silver City. Heaven’s brightest. There is a reason why I was called the ‘Star of the Morning.'” 

Chloe covered her mouth, a realization hitting her like a bulldozer. 

“Lucifer,” she murmured. “Your name… You… You really _are_ the bringer of light, aren’t you?” 

The brightness of his wings dimmed as Lucifer’s initial amusement at Chloe’s response evaporated. 

“No,” he snarled. “Trust me. That part of me died a long time ago.” 

“But—“ 

“Don’t!” Lucifer warned. His eyes burned with rage, and contempt, and scorn. 

_Shit!_

He had taken her compliment as an insult. Chloe flinched away from him, a tight gasp escaping her throat. Her panicked reaction seemed to shock him. The fire in his eyes melted into dark, bittersweet chocolate. 

“I told you who I am, Detective,” he said in a barely audible whisper. “You have _seen_ what I am.” 

Chloe shook her head. “A few weeks ago, I saw what you look like under the shell of the handsome club owner,” she told him. “I have known _who_ you are for much longer.” 

Lucifer didn’t reply. Instead, he lowered his gaze. 

“Okay, so you happen to be the Prince of Darkness!” Chloe exclaimed. 

Her words tore an incredulous scoff out of him. Lucifer smirked, then met her eyes once again. Chloe offered him a tender smile. 

“But to me, you’re so much more than that,” she said quietly. “You’re my partner. You’re my f… My _best_ friend! I just wish…” Her shoulders slumped. Chloe was not one to dwell on “ifs” and “maybes,” but secrets between friends were never a good idea. “I just wish you had shown me that other side of yourself a little sooner.” Her gaze caressed the contour of his wings. “ _This_ side of you.” 

“This is not me anymore,” Lucifer told her. “What you saw in the gallery the other day… _that_ is the real me.” 

“I don’t care. You showed Linda. You should’ve shown _me_. I deserved to know, Lucifer!” 

He let out a drawn out sigh. “I know,” he said. “I just… I could never find the right moment. Something always seemed to get in the way.” He offered her a deflated, half shrug. “The truth is I was… _afraid_. Afraid you’d run away.” 

“You really think I would’ve run away?” 

“I couldn’t know for sure,” he replied. “I almost lost the doctor. I didn’t want to risk… I didn’t want to lose you.” 

Chloe cupped Lucifer’s face, forced him to meet her eyes. “You haven’t lost me.” 

The moment stretched, comfort morphing into attraction. Her smile wavered, her heart pounding almost painfully inside her chest. 

Their lips met as if pulled together by a magnet. The kiss was chaste at first, their mouths shy as they brushed against each other in a series of feathery pecks, before opening up for deeper exploration. Chloe’s tongue grazed Lucifer’s. The light touch sent an electric current up her spine. His hand came to rest on the small of her back, pulling her closer as their kiss grew in intensity. When a tight gasp escaped his throat, Chloe couldn’t help but smile into his mouth. 

_Was he really shaking?_

She broke the kiss, biting back a teasing remark when she realized arousal wasn't what was causing his heavy breathing. 

“Lucifer?” 

The glow of his wings had died down, dimming as if the energy required to keep the light alive were running out fuel. All color seemed to have drained from his face, and his gaze appeared unfocused, lost on some point in space. Alarmed, Chloe ran a hand over his clammy forehead, not sure what symptoms to look for when dealing with someone who wasn’t exactly human. 

Lucifer grimaced before burying his face in the crook of Chloe’s neck with a strangled whimper. 

“It’s happening!” he hissed, nearly out of breath. “Detective…!” 

A second later the entire room began to shake. The sound of the creaking building and tons of concrete falling all around them became deafening. Smoke filled the space as billions of dust particles swirled around in choking clouds. Chloe held tightly onto Lucifer, whose wings were shielding both her and Ella from loose fragments flying in from the outside. Her cheek was pressed against his shirt, her eyes squeezed tightly closed as they weathered the storm for what felt like an eternity. At one point, all she could focus on was the pressure of Lucifer’s embrace as he nearly crushed her against him, which was oddly soothing in the midst of Hell. 

At some point, the ground stopped shaking, and the last few chunks of debris fell on the piling mountain of rubble. A deathly silence followed, disturbed only by their ragged breathing and the sound of distant sirens shortly after. The light from Lucifer’s wings was almost non-existent, but enough to see the entrance to the vault was now almost sealed off completely by fallen debris. 

Chloe placed a hand over Ella’s chest. She was breathing, unaware of what had just gone on around her. Lucifer knelt beside her looking sick. The dark circles around his eyes were more pronounced against the paleness of his face. His upper lip was covered in blood, which he tried to wipe away with the back of his hand, but only ended up smearing his face in the process, screw any sense of decorum. His hair stuck to his forehead in sweaty strands as he slumped back, exhausted, head resting against one of the fallen metal shelves while he tried to catch his breath. 

“Are you okay?” Chloe asked, sitting next to him. She raked shy fingers through his damp hair, caressing the unruly strands away from his eyes. He didn’t move an inch. His unresponsiveness worried her. 

“Lucifer…?” 

He blinked lazily a couple of times, his gaze trailing to meet her eyes. Blankness morphed into determination as his hand moved up to cup her cheek. 

“We’re getting the bloody hell out of here!” 

His growled promise infused Chloe with a glimmer of hope. 

**[To Be Continued…** ] 


	14. A Silent Pact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello, guys! Thank you so much for all the kudos and bookmarks! You guys rock! I'd like to especially thank you for taking the time to leave a comment. I apologize for not having replied to those of you who have left comments on the last chapter. We're in the middle of a move and it has been crrrrrazy around here. I will get back to you soon, I promise. :-)**
> 
> **Please be warned that, while there is nothing explicit, the story touches upon the issue of child abuse.**
> 
> **A huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ and _BelenP_ for their help and support as betas.**
> 
> **I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

_A Silent Pact_

Darkness had become a companion inside the vault, and the speed of time irrelevant without a clock. 

Chloe was comforted by the sounds of rubble being shifted around by Lucifer as he tried to dig their way out of what was left of the building. The faint light emanating from his wings would seep into the chamber every time he got close enough to the tight opening, only to disappear once again as he made his way through the fallen debris. She figured he kept the wings out and glowing as a courtesy to her, given her earlier confession. 

Were Lucifer in top shape, they would have been out of there by now, she was sure. As it was, Chloe suspected his physical strength was dwindling. He didn’t look well. The circles under his eyes were darkening, and his face was so pale it looked almost translucent, like that of a vampire. Or, at least, Hollywood’s version of a vampire. Even his wings shone duller. Chloe had tried to ask him about the nosebleeds. His grunted reply was a clear indication his physical health was not up for discussion. Apparently, the Lord of Hell wasn’t keen on displaying any type of weakness in front of humans. Or anyone for that matter. 

Ella moaned and shifted beside her, and Chloe murmured a few words of comfort that sounded empty to her own ears. Both she and Lucifer had agreed Chloe should stay with Ella just in case the lab tech woke up and felt disoriented in the darkness. They had also agreed not to dwell on how fucked-up their situation was. They had made a silent pact to maintain a positive attitude. But that was easier said than done. Their best bet was to hope for the rescue teams to get to them before they ran out of oxygen— _was running out of oxygen even a possibility?_ —or for Lucifer to magically find a way to shift aside a few hundred tons of rubble and find an exit. 

According to Lucifer, there were pockets of building still standing. He had managed to crawl into one, and was currently working on finding a northbound path to the outside. Or so he’d told Chloe. How he knew the path of least resistance was north—or where north was, by that matter—was beyond her. He was the Morning Star, after all. She supposed certain things simply came naturally to a fallen angel, like sprouting wings out of freaking nowhere, or breaking and entering. 

A muffled voice pulled Chloe out of her reverie. The muted speech came from the adjacent chamber. It was Lucifer. At first she thought he was telling her something, but that didn’t appear to be the case as he kept his voice relatively low. He seemed to be talking to someone on the phone. Except, he had no phone. And even if he did, there was no reception. Still, he sounded as if he were having a one-sided conversation. She held her breath and closed her eyes in the darkness, in case that might help discern what was being said. 

_“Do I look like the Delphi Oracle to you?”_

Silence. 

_“Three, four…? How am I supposed to know that?”_

Silence. 

_“Well, I’m a bit busy at the moment, in case you hadn’t noticed. Care to give me a hand?”_

Silence. 

_“Of course!”_

Lucifer then began speaking in a different language, one Chloe didn’t recognize. He rambled on for a few seconds and then stopped before speaking again. 

Okay, so he was having a conversation with himself. 

_Dear God_ , Chloe thought. _If the Devil himself was losing his mind, what would keep her own mind from going insane?_

Ella shifted, let out a small groan and, judging by the sounds of her movements, tried to sit up with difficulty, but gave up in the attempt almost immediately with a defeated whimper. 

“Shhh… Hey, Ella!” Chloe whispered through a warm smile. “Try not to move too much. Your head got hit pretty hard.” 

“Chloe?” Ella said hoarsely. “Where…? I can’t… I can’t see anything.” 

“Relax. I can’t either. It’s pitch black in here.” 

A moment of bewildered silence followed. 

“Where’s _here_?” 

“We’re inside a security vault at the county courthouse,” Chloe told her. “Or, what used to be the county courthouse. There was an earthquake. The building collapsed.” 

The rustling sound of Ella sitting up made Chloe’s smile widen. 

Ella was okay. She was awake. She probably shouldn’t be moving around, or sitting up, or talking, but she was coherent and alert, and that was a huge relief. 

“Ow! My ankle!” Ella moaned. “It’s throbbing and… OUCH! Yeah, can’t move it!” 

“Is it broken?” 

“I don’t know. I think it might be just a sprain,” came the hoarse reply. “It hurts like a sonofabitch, though.” 

A muffled voice could still be heard in the distance. 

“Is that Lucifer?” Ella asked. 

“Yes,” Chloe replied. “We’re working on getting out of here. I guess he’s a little… stressed out.” 

Ella groaned. “My head feels like a blimp!” 

“I bet! You really had me worried there for a while.” 

“How long have I been out?” 

“It’s hard to say,” Chloe said, shrugging. “My phone gave out at about 2:15.” 

A bluish light seeped into the space, and they both turned toward it. Lucifer was kneeling at the entrance of the vault, no wings in sight, while a broad smile spread across his worn-out face as he directed a phone screen at them. His cheeks were streaked with dirt, blood and sweat. His shirt wasn’t looking much better. He had it unbuttoned—or perhaps the buttons had snapped off—his muscled torso exposed as the expensive fabric fell loosely to his sides. 

“Miss Lopez!” he greeted. “Welcome back!” 

“Where did you get that phone?” Chloe asked. 

“Oh, from one of the poor souls crushed under the rubble in the chamber next to us,” he said, matter-of-factly. 

“ _One_ of them?” Chloe turned pale. “How many victims are there?” 

Lucifer puffed out a sigh as if to indicate there were too many to count. Or that he had been too busy to bother _to_ count. 

“Quite a few,” he replied. “My sister’s delegates have been scouting the area like bloodhounds.” 

“Is that who you were talking to?” Chloe asked. 

“For the most part,” he said, nodding. “A few underlings stopped by too. If I had known I was going to get an earful from _both_ sides as to the amount of work they're being forced to perform, I would’ve cleared the way in the opposite direction.” 

Distraught by the news, Chloe raked her fingers through her hair. 

“Are they still out there?” she asked, a flicker of hope tugging at her gut. “Your sister’s delegates, I mean. Can they help us? Or can they call for help?” 

“I’m afraid they’re all in a bit of a time crunch, Detective,” Lucifer answered. “Besides, no human out there would be able to actually _see_ them.” 

“I think I might have a concussion,” Ella murmured tiredly. “You guys are not making _any_ sense.” 

Chloe wasn’t quite sure how to explain. Her guard was down, she was tired, and in no mood to offer any existential statements. For once, she hoped Lucifer would blurt out one of his turned-out-not-so-crazy retorts, and leave it at that. 

“I wish I could say it makes more sense to me,” Chloe began. “Unfortunately, I’ve been—” A faint sound coming from the other chamber made her stop talking. She cocked her head, trying to listen. “Do you guys hear that?” 

Ella craned her neck, as if the gesture could amplify the acoustics inside the vault. “I don’t hear anyth—“ 

“Shhhhh!!!” Chloe brought her index finger to her lips. They waited in silence for a couple of seconds. “Somebody’s crying!” 

Lucifer winced. “Yes. I’ve been trying to ignore that wretched sound for the past several minutes.” 

Chloe’s mouth dropped, her eyes widening. “Wha—? Y—you, you’ve been hearing it this whole time?” she stammered. “Why didn’t you say anything!?” 

“I can hear it now!” Ella gasped. “Sounds like a woman.” 

“Correct, Ms. Lopez,” Lucifer said. “And a rather young one, judging by her voice.” 

Ella tried to get up, grimacing the moment she put weight on her injured ankle, and slumped back down with a groan. “We need to help her!” 

“You better keep off that ankle,” Chloe told her. “Lucifer and I will go.” 

“Aw! Come now, Detective!” Lucifer growled with obvious disinclination. “We don’t really have time for side projects!” 

“Now, Lucifer!” Chloe commanded. “Lead the way!” 

Chloe followed a very reluctant Lucifer into the adjacent chamber through the makeshift tunnel. They left Ella inside the vault with the phone, told her they could do without it, and vaguely responded to about a dozen questions as to how they would be able to find their way around in the dark, leaving Ella even more confused. 

The short distance between the vault and the chamber seemed eternal. Feeling her way through the rubble in total darkness was harder than she had anticipated. Her only guide was the sound of Lucifer crawling through the tight spaces ahead of her. Once they hit the open space, his wings unfurled with a soft glow that illuminated what was left of the lobby, where at least a dozen people had been trapped under the fallen debris. The scent of death and blood permeated the air. Chloe heard the faint cry of a woman as they approached a gigantic pillar, which had divided the chamber in half, effectively preventing the total collapse of that section of the building. 

There!” Chloe pointed to an area behind a ventilation duct. “It’s coming from there!” 

There was a mesh of concrete and rebar piled along the large pipe. Lucifer lifted the vent as if it were made of tinfoil and set it aside before removing two massive concrete slabs, also without breaking a sweat. Underneath, a girl lay trapped by a large metal beam, her tear-streaked face pinched with agony. Chloe muffled a gasp behind her hand. 

She recognized the young woman immediately. 

_Audrey Reynolds._

“We need to get her out from under there,” Chloe said. She turned to look at Lucifer, who was staring at the girl, his expression grim. He had obviously recognized his accuser as well. 

“Do we?” he said quietly. 

Chloe’s heart dropped into her stomach. 

_Was he really considering leaving her to die?_

“Lucifer…” she said on an exhale. “You can’t… You _wouldn’t_.” 

“Wouldn’t I?” he said, almost a hiss. His eyes were dark. “I am the _Devil_ , Detective. Mercy is not exactly one of my virtues.” 

And, out of the blue, there it was. A glimmer of the old Lucifer. The one who had sent a two-hundred-pound man flying through a glass wall, and lifted another equally built man by the neck with one hand. The one who had nearly talked two idiots into shooting each other by pushing the right emotional buttons. The one who could leave a thug screaming in terror for no apparent reason other than being in his presence. The one who tried to lure her into shooting her father’s murderer in cold blood. 

Chloe stood up, anger and incredulity joining a cocktail of other emotions brewing inside her chest. 

“You’re also my partner!” she shot back. “I _know_ you! Tell me you’re not seriously considering leaving her here to die.” 

The fact she could not read his expression unnerved her. His prolonged stillness made her insides churn. 

“Lucifer, please!” Chloe’s desperate whisper tore through the silence. “ _Please_ don’t do this! You’re better than this!” 

When he offered no response, Chloe huffed out a quiet sob of impotence and began trying to lift the metal beam herself. As expected, the ton of steel didn’t budge an inch. 

“Damn it!” Chloe cried, falling to her knees. 

The girl let out another pathetic little whimper. Panting, Chloe looked around for a lever, something to help her lift the fucking thing, but the ground was mostly carpeted with useless debris. She was tired, and thirsty, and her emotions were raw. She punched the beam in frustration. 

“Fuck you, Lucifer!” 

She frowned up at him and saw the expression of agony on his face. There was a trail of crimson seeping from his nostrils. His heavy-lidded eyes shone bright red as he fell to his knees, the light of his wings dimming down to a tepid glow. 

Lucifer clenched his jaw through another episode that left him gasping. Only once it was over, did he find the strength to meet her gaze. The only red remaining in his dark eyes were the rims around them. 

“Let her die here, Detective.” His hoarse whisper belied no resentment, not an ounce of hatred. “You’d be doing her a favor.” 

And that’s when Chloe realized that she had completely misread him earlier. He hadn’t been selfish or evil when he had refused to help get the girl from under the rubble. His dismissiveness didn’t stem from hatred or even disdain. His reluctance was born out of despair. _Jesus!_ He had given up... 

Stunned, Chloe couldn’t come up with a single coherent reply. Her eyes welled as the stress of the past few hours finally stretched her nerves to the breaking point. Lucifer appeared to be just as defeated as she felt. He didn’t look at all powerful. He looked ill and frail. 

“What are you _not_ telling me?” Chloe said with a sob. 

Lucifer blinked tiredly, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he regarded her with what Chloe could only describe as… tenderness. 

“I’ve failed you, darling,” he murmured. 

He shed silent tears. Chloe reached up to cup his face, her thumb running over his upper lip to wipe off some of the blood. When Lucifer saw the moistness on her cheeks, he choked out a strangled, “I’m sorry.” 

And, just like that, their silent pact crumbled under the weight of their misery. 

**[To Be Continued…]**


	15. A Personal Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello, guys! Thank you so much for all the kudos and bookmarks! You guys rock! I'd like to especially thank you for taking the time to leave a comment.**
> 
> **Please be warned that, while there is nothing explicit, the story touches upon the issue of child abuse.**
> 
> **A huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ and _BelenP_ for their help and support as betas.**
> 
> **I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

_A Personal Visit_

_   
_

“I can barely feel her pulse,” Chloe said. Her thumb was on Audrey Reynolds’ wrist, while the girl’s head rested on her lap. 

Lucifer removed yet another slab of concrete out of the way. He had pushed aside his initial reluctance and acquiesced to Chloe’s plea to get the girl from under the rubble. Whether he had changed his mind due to a glimmer of hope that Audrey Reynolds might pull through, or he had done so merely to cater to Chloe’s desire, wasn’t clear. In the end he had done the right thing, and that’s all that mattered. 

“You humans are resilient, I’ll give you that,” Lucifer said, his tone subdued. 

“What did you mean earlier when you said that letting her die here would be doing her a favor?” Chloe asked. 

Lucifer shoved a long metal bar out of the way, then crawled back inside the makeshift tunnel, his wings at half-mast to keep the area around them lit. 

“Lucifer?” 

A deep sigh echoed from within the pathway. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied, then grunted, dragging a misshapen rock as he emerged from the tunnel once again. “Defeatism is not a good look on me. My apologies.” 

Chloe knew he wasn’t telling her the whole truth but, like with Trixie, getting Lucifer to be forthcoming could be as futile as trying to find a golf ball in a snow field. Much to her chagrin, she gave up. For now. 

“I should get Ella,” Chloe said, shifting her legs a little to accommodate Audrey’s weight. “This area of the building is safe, isn’t it?” 

“The ground won’t be shaking any time soon, if that’s what you mean by ‘safe,’” Lucifer replied, then pointed his thumb at his wings. “Now whether you volunteer to explain these things to her without causing her brain to melt is another story.” 

“Maybe we don’t have to,” Chloe said, shrugging. “You could work in the dark.” 

“I could,” he said, flinging across the chamber a crumpled panel of what appeared to have been a metal detector. “And if you believe Ms. Lopez’s curiosity will be satisfied so easily, I’ll go get her right now.” 

They both knew the chances of Ella not asking any questions were about as low as Dan not noticing one of his puddings missing from the break-room fridge. 

“Ella! You okay back there?” Chloe bellowed. 

“Yeah…” came the faint reply. “Getting kinda creepy in here, though. Battery’s down to seven percent. How’s the girl?” 

Chloe felt Audrey’s pulse again. It was getting weaker. 

“She’s… hanging in there.” 

Lucifer met Chloe’s gaze. She had clearly overstated Audrey’s condition. They both knew as much. 

“Are you bringing her back here?” Ella asked. 

Chloe winced. She hated lying. “We’re… working on it. We’re afraid to move her too much.” 

“Do you guys need any help?” 

Lucifer and Chloe cried out the same panicked, “No!” in unison. 

There was an awkward silence in which Chloe sent Lucifer a look that screamed: “Ya think she might’ve picked-up on our over-the-top reaction?” 

“I assure you, Ms. Lopez… everything’s fine.” Lucifer’s tone sounded reassuring. His facial expression told a different story. 

Chloe lifted a skeptical eyebrow at him. “I thought you didn’t lie,” she whispered. 

“What? I didn’t lie,” he mumbled defensively, then winced. “Okay, I did just a tad. Bloody hell! You humans and your flaws are rubbing off on me!” 

“It’s just a white lie, Lucifer,” Chloe said with a sigh. “It’s not like you killed someone.” 

She winced, regretting her remark almost immediately. Her stomach clenched when she saw Lucifer’s expression darken. 

Ella’s voice travelled across the chamber, “Are you sure you guys don’t need any help? Six arms are better than four.” 

“No. We’ve got it, babe!” Chloe replied, trying not to sound the way she really felt. “Besides, we wouldn’t want you to injure your ankle any more.” 

“Okay,” Ella replied after a pause. “But the battery on this thing is down to five percent at this point, and it sucks to be alone in the dark.” 

“You won’t be alone,” Chloe said. “We’re right here.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” came the morose reply. 

To be fair, there was something irrationally unnerving about sitting in pitch-black surroundings. As Lucifer made progress towards the exit, his trek along the tunnel took him farther away from the chamber, where Chloe sat, restless, as seconds stretched into long minutes of total darkness. Every time the glow of his presence became visible, she would let out a soft sigh of relief. Not because she thought Lucifer would magically disappear without a trace, or because she feared being left alone, but because having him near infused her with a sense of serenity and safety that was hard to put into words. 

Lucifer emerged from the tunnel with a bundle of knotted mesh. One more unidentifiable obstacle to add to the pile, and one less to sort through on the interminable trek towards an exit. His wings were barely emitting any light now as he leaned against the fallen pillar, panting and exhausted. 

“Why don’t you rest for a few minutes,” Chloe suggested. “You can’t keep going like this.” 

“We’re almost there, D’tective,” he replied, out of breath. 

“Please. Come sit,” she insisted. “You look like you’re about to collapse.” 

There was a brief moment of hesitation before he acquiesced, lowering himself beside her and resting his back against the same slab of concrete she was using for support. She leaned forward to allow his left wing to slide behind her, and rested her head on his chest. 

“I’m… ehm... I’m in serious need of a shower,” he said, uncharacteristically self-conscious. 

“I don’t care,” Chloe said. “Besides, your sweat doesn’t smell like human sweat. It smells more like…” She turned her head to sniff his torso. “Like musk and… _bourbon_.” 

Lucifer chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“I didn’t know angels could sweat.” 

“They usually don’t.” 

“They don’t?” Chloe smiled, letting slide the fact he didn’t consider himself an angel. “But the Devil does?” 

“The Devil doesn’t either,” he replied. “Not usually.” 

“So what happened? Do earthquakes strip you of your ‘devilishness?’” 

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her a little closer. 

“Not earthquakes, darling,” he said quietly. “You do.” 

Chloe’s heart began to hammer against her sternum, and the air inside the chamber suddenly became too heavy to breathe. 

“I d—don’t understand,” she stammered. “M—me?” 

Lucifer gave her shoulders a little squeeze. “I was as baffled as you are when I first found out,” he said. “No human has ever made me vulnerable before.” 

“But… I don’t get it. _H—how_ do I make you vulnerable?” 

“The mechanics of it?” 

Unable to articulate any coherent reply, Chloe just nodded her head. 

“I don’t know,” he said with a mild shrug. “But right now I’m rather mortal.” 

The room began to spin, and Chloe closed her eyes in the midst of a dizzy spell. 

_This wasn’t reality. It couldn’t be reality. She had most likely fallen asleep, and was having a vivid dream._

“ _Why_ do I make you vulnerable?” Chloe pictured a dying Lucifer bleeding out on the cold concrete floor of a hangar. 

Lucifer shook his head slowly. “I guess Dad finds the whole thing hilarious.” 

“Your dad as in… _God_?” 

“As in the bastard who made _you,_ in part, to get back at _me_ ,” he answered darkly. 

_Definitely a weird-ass dream from which she’d be waking up any moment now._

“When I found out about his twisted plan, I lost it,” Lucifer continued. “I lashed out. I pushed you away and, for that, I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” 

Chloe nodded, lost for words, unable to offer any reply. But, in her defense, what the hell was one supposed to say after being told they were the Devil’s friggin’ kryptonite? That… God _himself_ had made it happen!! 

_For crying out loud, how was her life reality?_ Chloe thought as her lungs struggled to suck in oxygen. 

“Are you cold, darling?” Lucifer whispered. “You’re shaking.” 

“N—no,” she mumbled. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around… _everything_!” 

“Too much?” he asked. “Should I not continue?” 

Chloe swallowed hard a couple of times. “There's _more_?” 

Lucifer nodded. “I have a theory. Okay, it was really that pathetic-excuse-for-a-human-formerly-known-as-Cain who came up with this theory. And, as repulsed as I am to admit it, that _knobhead_ might have been onto something. The evidence is, quite frankly, incontrovertible.” 

“Okay…” 

Chloe let out a shaky breath and braced herself for her mind to be blown. _Again!_

“I never expected life on Earth to be this complicated,” Lucifer began, his voice soft. “The more I dug my heels in, the stronger these bloody emotions grew inside me. One day it dawned on me: there really was no turning back. The challenge of unravelling the mystery behind your immunity to my God-given abilities had blossomed into this… unlikely friendship. Into something deeper, perhaps. Cain believed he became mortal because you… _loved_ him. But I don’t think you ever did.” 

He paused, perhaps waiting for confirmation, perhaps for an entirely different reason. 

“But he wasn’t far off the mark in his assessment of his newfound mortality,” Lucifer continued. “You see, I think it was the other way around. I believe it was _Cain_ who fell in love with _you._ I think _that’s_ what made him mortal.” 

The air inside the chamber became heavy, leaden with the weight of what he was telling her. 

“And you?” Chloe dared to whisper. 

Lucifer huffed out a quiet little laugh. “That’s the biggest irony of all,” he replied. “To say our acquaintance was an eye-opener would be an understatement. I tried so hard for you to fall prey to my charms, I failed to realize it was _me_ who was falling prey to _yours_.” He became pensive for a long moment. “You make me vulnerable in every possible way, Detective. Bleeding to death from a mundane piece of precast lead is just a physical manifestation.” 

Chloe was finding hard to hear her own thoughts over the wild thumping of her heartbeat. 

“I guess that makes two of us,” she confessed, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Though I feel claustrophobic enough as it is to call us ‘two peas in a pod’ at the moment.” 

The rumble of his laughter inside his chest vibrated against her ear, made her lips curl upwards. 

“I must admit, under normal circumstances I hate relinquishing control,” Lucifer confessed. “But in this case, the feeling is rather… exhilarating.” 

Chloe chuckled. “Welcome to the messed-up world of human emotions.” 

Lucifer's tiny scoff made Chloe turn to face him. 

“What?” she asked quietly. 

“It’s just…” he began. His eyes softened on hers. “Trying new things has never been this terrifying. And I don’t mean the potential to bleed to death from a gunshot wound. The last thing I ever wanted to do was cause you any pain.” He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “So much for that, I guess.” 

Chloe’s heart clenched, and her eyes watered. 

“I’ve never tried chicken Vindaloo,” she told him. Lucifer searched her eyes, his eyebrows rose inquisitively, and she chuckled. With a sigh, Chloe rested her head once again on his chest—in part for comfort, but mostly to conceal her emotions. “Every time Trix and I order Indian food, she dares me to try the spiciest dish they have. I’ve made it as far as Madras. In return, she’ll watch _an old movie classic_ with me. The last one we saw was _The Sound of Music_. She wanted a bunch of brothers and sisters after that.” Chloe caught Lucifer’s subtle wince from the corner of her eye. “It’s stupid of me to bring this up now. I’m… I’m sorry.” 

He plucked a loose strand of hair from the side of her face and tenderly tucked it behind her ear. 

“It’s not stupid, darling,” he said softly. “Besides, you can tell that little urchin when you see her that having siblings can be a huge pain in the arse.” 

_When would that be?_ Chloe pondered as her eyes prickled. 

Lucifer shifted. Something made him turn around with a frown. Chloe followed his gaze, wondered what he could be staring at. He placed two fingers over Audrey Reynold’s jugular, confirming what Chloe had been fearing ever since they'd found her. 

“You are here for Ms. Reynolds, aren’t you?” Lucifer said. 

Chloe squinted into the darkness once again, but could not see who Lucifer was talking to. 

“Oh, just hanging out under these lovely ruins,” he said sarcastically. “Care to join us for a round of ‘spot the corpse?’” 

Whatever had been said at the other end of the conversation made him frown down at Chloe. 

“The detective’s never crossed the threshold,” Lucifer replied. “She won’t be able to see you.” 

A figure began to materialize in front of Chloe’s eyes. A woman. Short. Black-haired. Remarkable in her unremarkableness. The woman spoke, and her words reached Chloe’s ears as if they came from a different dimension. 

“That’s not entirely true. We've met once before.” 

The voice turned solid on the last word, as did the woman, who was now smiling at them, and as real as the toppled filing cabinet she had to walk over to reach them. 

“Hello, Chloe,” she greeted. 

“W—who are you?” Chloe asked, disconcerted. 

“You don’t remember me, do you?” The woman looked at her with narrowed eyes. “I’m Azrael. I stayed with you last year, just as you… Anyway, I’m glad your body recovered. I stalled as long as I could, you know. If Lucifer had spent a few more seconds down ‘you-know-where,’ you’d be taking in the scent of celestial tulips right about now.” 

“Down _where_?” Chloe breathed. 

_Was she really having a conversation with an angel? Or was the woman merely a vivid hallucination? Okay, yes. This was officially a dream._

“Hell,” Azrael answered. “Where else could my brother have tracked down the cretin who poisoned you? Personally, I was rooting for you guys.” 

“Wait,” Lucifer cut in. “You mean the detective actually…?” 

“It was a close call, Lu! And I mean, bright light, white tunnel close. Hence, the reason why Chloe can see past the Earthly dimension right now.” 

Chloe was too stunned to inquire about that mysterious _Earthly dimension_ , or any other ambiguities by that matter. The whole situation was way too surreal. 

“What exactly are you doing here, Azrael?” Lucifer asked. “Does this girl really warrant a personal visit?” 

Chloe broke out into a cold sweat as she faintly connected the name to… 

_The Angel of Death._

“No,” Azrael replied. “I just came to see my big brother before Dad’s project bursts into flames.” 

“So you came to rub it in,” Lucifer growled. “Lovely.” 

“I came to remind you that there’s still time to stop it!” 

Chloe stared at them, eyes wide. Lucifer noticed her panicked expression and scowled at his sister. He told her something in a foreign language, and Azrael focused on Chloe. 

“But she _is_ a part of this, Lu,” Azrael said. “She might even be the _key_.” 

Lucifer‘s icy stare fell squarely on his sister. “Start talking.” 

Azrael sighed. “Look, if the Council finds out I’m here talking to you they’ll probably assign me to herd all those confused souls of Limbo for a millennium,” she said with a grimace. “I don’t have all the answers. But _you_ do. You’ve had them for centuries. A certain Benedict monk can attest to that.” 

Lucifer’s frown intensified. “Wait… are you talking about The _Codex_?” 

“I’ve said too much already. All I can tell you is that _the answer lies in that which its twin is missing_.” 

“A riddle?” Lucifer snarled. “Oh, bloody brilliant! Should I come up with the formula for the ‘ _Theory of Everything_ ’ while I’m at it?” 

Azrael sent him a mocking glare and knelt by Audrey’s inert body. “Oh, please!” the Angel of Death rolled her eyes. “That’s the first riddle we ever solved, remember?” 

“Ray-Ray?” 

Ella’s voice came from the far end of the chamber. Her face registered shock as she stood on one foot staring at the scene before her. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Chloe snapped out of her own astonishment and rushed to her side. The lab-tech held onto her just as she was about to lose balance. 

“Lu—Lucifer has… he… he has… _wings_!” Ella stammered. “Oh, God! I’m dead, aren’t I? I’m dead, and went to hell, and everything is weird down here, and we’re going to spend eternity trying to get out of this place, and I’m never going to see my family or the light of sun again, am I right? Or get to do anything else, for that mat—“ 

“Ella! Ella!” Chloe exclaimed, grabbing Ella's flailing wrists in order to get her attention. “You are _not_ dead. And we _are_ going to get out of here, okay? How is your ankle?” 

“Ankle?” Ella was panting. “Yeah, fine. My ankle is… fine. Chloe, Lucifer has wi—!” 

“I know!” Chloe cut her off, her tone a little harsher than she had intended. Ella was shivering from head to toe, and Chloe’s expression softened. “I _know_.” 

“I assure you, Ms. Lopez, nobody was more annoyed by their return than I was a few months ago,” Lucifer deadpanned. 

“Okay, I guess my job here is done,” Azrael said. 

Her hands held an orb of energy the size of a basketball. 

_Audrey Reynolds._

“Wait!” Ella cried. “You’re leaving?” 

“I’m afraid my time here has expired. Take care of my favorite human, big brother!” the Angel of Death said through a grin, her presence slowly vanishing. “Smell ya later, gang!” 

Her departure was followed by sepulchral silence. Chloe nudged Ella forward, while Lucifer turned back to the pathway that would hopefully lead them to freedom. A loud crack echoed through the space, and then another. Lucifer and Chloe exchanged a glance. Chloe’s heart bounced with anticipation. The rescue teams had finally made it! 

There was a loud crash that sent a cloud of dust spurting into the chamber. It was followed by the rustling sound of somebody crawling toward them. A figure slid into the chamber with the stealth of a black panther. 

“Maze!” three voices sang in unison. 

“We don’t have all day,” the demon said tersely. “Shit is hitting the fan like you wouldn’t believe out there.” 

**[To Be Continued…]**


	16. The Devil's Prayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello, guys! Thank you so much for all the kudos and bookmarks! You guys rock! I'd like to especially thank you for taking the time to leave a comment.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Please be warned that, while there is nothing explicit, the story touches upon the issue of child abuse.**
> 
>  
> 
> **A huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ and _BelenP_ for their help and support as betas.**
> 
>  
> 
> **I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

_The Devil’s Prayer_

“ _There will be signs in sun and moon and stars, and on the earth dismay among nations, in perplexity at the roaring of the sea and the waves, men fainting from fear and the expectation of the things which are coming upon the world; for the powers of the heavens will be shaken_ .” Lucifer had spoken the words reverently. “Luke… The bastard had a knack for conveying the spectacularly obscure quagmires that were my father’s riddles with the greatest degree of accuracy.” 

They had just crawled from under the semi-collapsed building adjacent to the County Courthouse, and were now standing on top of the rubble. The Courthouse itself, which was once a tall, proud tower, had partially toppled. 

Chloe and Ella were both shaken by the Dante-esque scene the surface revealed. Most buildings had crumbled into piles of concrete, and metal, and rebar. Scorched cars had been abandoned, some of them still aflame, others left driverless in the middle of the road. A few people wandered about, zombie-like, calling for loved ones who might be left under the smoking ruins. Sirens and alarms blared somewhere in the distance, too far away for their source to be discerned. 

Maze led them over the ravaged terrain. When Ella began falling behind, Lucifer scooped her into his arms. She didn’t resist. 

“Be honest, please,” she said. “Am I dead?” 

“Excuse me?” Lucifer frowned. 

“How is this not Hell?” Ella whimpered morosely. 

“I assure you, Ms. Lopez, this is not Hell,” the Devil replied. “Although the landscape faintly resembles certain sectors of the third level.” 

Chloe followed Maze’s steps, trying hard not to stumble, and trying even harder not to succumb to the despair clawing at her from the darkest corners of her brain. Right now, she only had one goal in mind. 

“Trixie,” she said, panting, her lungs heavy with the dust and debris lingering in the air. “I need to get to her!” 

The demon spoke over her shoulder, “Way ahead of you, Decker.” 

Chloe almost cried with relief. “You know where she is?” 

“'Course I do,” Maze replied nonchalantly. “She’s with Linda at the Hills Estate.” 

“The Hills Est…?” Lucifer growled, readjusting Ella in his arms while stepping over a mesh of tangled wire. “Dearie me! Was the Boondocks not far enough for you!?” 

Maze stopped and swiveled around so fast Chloe almost bumped into her. 

“Look around, Lucifer!” Maze snapped. “There isn’t a building standing in L.A.! The hills are burning! The roads have been blocked off by the military, and the government has issued a state of emergency nationwide! Worldwide, in fact! Sorry my choice of shelter is a little too far for your liking, but ‘remote’ happens to be a plus under the circumstances!” 

“What do you mean ‘there isn't a building standing?’” Lucifer asked. “What about Lux?” 

Maze regarded him with somber eyes, then shook her head. 

“No, no, no, it can’t be,” he said, his frown deepening. “There’s something… something there I need to get.” 

“Yeah, good luck finding whatever it is,” Maze scoffed. 

Lucifer pressed his lips together, his jaw clenching. “Maze…” He lifted his gaze, searching her eyes. “How…?” 

The demon offered him an indifferent half-shrug. “I was forged in the bowels of Hell to protect you,” she quoted. “To know _where_ you are and _who_ you're with at all times. Or don’t you remember the reason why I exist in the first place?” 

Lucifer nodded slowly in something akin to gratitude, but did not reply. He followed Maze down the pile of rubble in silence. 

An old Jeep Wrangler stood in the middle of what was left of the road, where a few bodies had been lined up along the street by the nowhere-to-be-seen emergency services. The corpses had been covered with sheets that had probably been white once, but were now covered in dust and soot. Chloe walked behind Lucifer along the row of dirty sheets, her eyes wide and her heart heavy. The cloying smell of death hung all around them. She gasped when she spotted a partially covered hand. The sight of an oval-shaped mood ring made her stomach turn. 

_Rena._ __

Chloe’s eyes widened, and her hands flew to her mouth in shock. 

“Detective?” Lucifer called, lowering Ella to the ground. 

“I’m s-sorry.” Chloe was still covering her mouth with the back of her hand. She forced herself to breathe through her nose to prevent the wave of nausea from overtaking her. But that only accentuated the scent of burnt flesh and decay. “I’m just…” 

Chloe turned to the side and convulsed as she emptied the scarce contents of her stomach onto what was left of the sidewalk. 

“Are you okay?” Ella asked, alarmed. 

Of course, Chloe was not okay. But what was the point of dwelling on it? 

A cold shiver ran up her spine. She kept her eyes closed for a second longer, trying to get the queasiness under control. When a warm hand came to rest on her forehead, her eyes flashed open. Lucifer pulled her hair away from her face, handed her his blood-stained handkerchief, and apologized for its condition in a soft whisper. Chloe accepted the handkerchief, offering him a weak smile, and allowed him to guide her into the Jeep, where Maze handed her a warm bottle of water that Chloe gulped down greedily. 

_No time to grieve._ __

_Apparently, the world was ending…_ __

They took an off-road pathway up to Hollywood Hills Drive in order to avoid the military check points. It was hard to tell whether it was morning, afternoon, or evening. The sky was on fire, ominous dark clouds blocking either the sun or the stars. 

Relieved as Chloe was to know that Trixie was okay, she couldn’t help but wonder what might have been Dan’s and Penelope’s fates. She asked Maze whether she knew, but her inquiry was dismissed by a terse, “What the hell, Decker? Do I look like God to you?” and so Chloe dropped the subject. 

The drive up the mountain took twice as long as it had the last time she had been to that house, where the fake Sinnerman had been shot by Pierce. Forest fires had derailed them twice. Fortunately, the house was located upwind, conveniently sheltered from the massive destruction. 

For now… 

The mansion was quiet as Maze and Chloe entered, followed by Lucifer, who carried Ella up the stairs to the main floor. They found Trixie almost asleep on the large sectional in the living room. Linda sat by Trixie's feet, her book long forgotten on her lap. The sigh that escaped the therapist’s lips the moment she saw them matched the expression of relief on her face. 

“Mommy!” Trixie cried, jumping off the sofa to rush into her mother’s arms. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Monkey!” Chloe croaked, unable to hold back tears. 

“There are two bathrooms down that hallway, and another one downstairs,” Lucifer told them. “Feel free to freshen up if you need to. I’ll be… I’ll be right back.” 

Lucifer rushed into what appeared to be the master bedroom, his gait noticeably unsteady. Chloe and Maze exchanged a worried glance. Something wasn’t right. Linda seemed like she had picked up on it too, because she turned to them with a frown. 

“Is he okay?” Linda asked. 

Not waiting to debate the issue, Chloe followed Lucifer to make sure. She found him hunched over the double-sink of the ensuite bathroom, one hand holding onto the counter for dear life while the other pinched the bridge of his nose. He was breathing heavily as he succumbed to yet another strange episode of whatever sinister illness afflicted him. 

“Please leave, Detective,” he said without looking up, panting. “I’m… I need to be alone right now.” 

But Chloe couldn’t leave. She defiantly went to him, standing beside him in silent support. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder, and he flinched slightly, but his eyes remained closed. 

“Look at me,” she urged, softly. 

Lucifer hesitated, then shook his head. “Not right now. I can’t… I can’t will it away.” 

“Your … face?” 

“I’m trying,” he said through clenched teeth. “I just… I _can’t_!” 

Chloe cupped his face, her thumb caressing the raspy stubble under the grime and dirt as she gently forced him to turn his face to her. The nosebleed appeared to have stopped. He resisted for a moment, then gave in to her request. 

“Detective, I don’t want you to see me like this.” 

“And I don’t want you to shut me out,” she told him. “Stalemate.” 

A dry chuckle escaped his lips. Stalemate indeed. He nodded, then gradually opened his eyes to reveal a pair of intense red orbs that glowed brightly under the dim lights of the bathroom. Anguish flashed over his features and a second later, the fire within him flared, transforming his angelic face for a terrifying moment. 

Chloe regretted the gasp that escaped her throat almost as much as the jolt of her body that made her stumble back a step. 

“I’m s—sorry, darling… I d—didn’t mean…” 

Lucifer uttered the clumsy apology in a panting whisper that made her feel even shittier. 

His temples were drenched in sweat. He leaned into her touch as she cupped his face. It appeared he longed for the intimacy but was too proud—or too scared—to admit it. Her hand traveled from his cheek down to his neck, the skin clammy under her touch as she caressed the soft hairs at the nape. 

“What’s happening to you?” she asked softly. 

His eyes remained at half mast, unfocused over the dark slabs of stone forming the bathroom floor. The incandescence became dimmer with each stroke of Chloe’s thumb. Blood stained his upper lip, his chin, his formerly white shirt, and even the plush area rug beneath them. 

There was a washcloth near the sink. Chloe dampened it and used it to carefully wipe the blood off his chin and upper lip. He blinked in surprise, his now dark gaze focusing on her for the first time since she’d entered the bathroom, but the no-nonsense stare she gave him seemed to dissuade him from making a snide remark, most likely against his need for a personal wet nurse. 

“I need to get to Lux, or… what’s left of it,” he gritted out. “I need to find the Codex.” 

The soft circles Chloe kept drawing with her thumb at the base of his neck seemed to soothe him. 

“The Codex?” she asked. “You mentioned it earlier. What is it?” 

“A book… It’s a book… I need to get to it...” 

“Okay, but Maze says the building collapsed,” she reasoned. “If that book hasn’t been destroyed, what makes you think you could even find it?” 

“I have to try!” he said, straightening up with difficulty. 

“Lucifer stop!” Chloe said. “Look at yourself! You can barely stand! There has to be another way!” 

“No…” Lucifer shook his head for emphasis. His eyes, now dark and warm, reflected desperation. “There’s barely any time left.” 

“What’s so damned special about this book?” 

“It prophesied what’s happening,” he replied. “It’s the Devil’s Bible, Detective.” 

Chloe blinked, her mind hatcheting through a jungle of confusion. “The Devil’s Bible,” she parroted. 

“Yes. It juxtaposes with the will of the Creator,” Lucifer explained. “When my father said ‘let there be light,’ I made sure there was also shadow. The book contains all Divine Contrasts: the deserts to his oceans, the hunger to his satiety, the depth to his height. It holds the key. Salvation! Salvation from his… _bloody_ damnation!” 

“Why would God create such a book?” 

“He didn’t,” Lucifer replied. “ _I_ did.” 

Chloe thought for a long moment. “But, if you wrote it, then the answers lie _within_ you!” 

Lucifer gave her a strange look. 

“It was a long time ago, Detective,” he said. “I was different back then. The world was different. The truth is, I just kept the book as a relic. I never thought…” 

He let the words trail away as something seemed to dawn on him. 

“The book contained the _Devil’s Prayer_ ,” he said, as if that ought to magically turn on the proverbial light inside Chloe’s head. Unfortunately, his not-so-obvious statement only managed to confuse her further. 

“I don’t understand...” she said. “Is that some kind of spell?” 

Lucifer huffed out a listless chuckle. “Not a spell, darling. More like a plea. A divine bargain, if you will.” 

“A plea to… God?” Chloe ventured to ask. 

“Yes,” he replied. “Except, it wouldn’t be a prayer in the traditional sense. It would be a way to undo God’s will in exchange for something.” 

“In exchange for what?” 

“I, uh…” Lucifer rubbed his temples, his eyes drifting shut. “I’m not sure. I barely remember the bloody text. An eye for an eye was a big part of the overall theme, but back in the day revenge was all the rage, along with painfully inaccurate storytelling and small farm animal sacrifices.” 

“Right…” Chloe nodded, way too tired to even try to sort through Lucifer’s word jumble. 

Lucifer placed his knuckle under her chin and gently urged her to meet his eyes. “Don’t worry, my dear,” he murmured. “No matter what happens, you _will_ be okay.” 

Chloe wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Did he mean the answer to this clusterfuck was right around the corner, or that the fate of the world had been sealed and Heaven would be welcoming her with open arms? 

Lucifer’s lips pressed softly against hers, and every terrifying scenario running through her head ceased. A faint smile played on his lips when they pulled apart. 

“I’m in dire need of a shower, darling,” he murmured. “Perhaps the hot water might help me sort through this bloody problem.” His grin turned mischievous. “You’re welcome to join me if you’d like. Two brains think better than one, after all.” 

Chloe let out a tired chuckle. “The world is literally ending, and you want to have a naked brainstorming session in the shower?” 

“You’d be surprised how effect—“ Lucifer swayed and almost lost his balance as he pushed away from the sink. 

Chloe rushed to hold him upright, almost tumbling to the floor along with him. “Are you okay?” 

Silly question, really. Judging by his pasty complexion and red-rimmed eyes, he was clearly _not_ okay. 

“Just a tad light-headed, D’tective,” he breathed out. Lucifer offered her a forced smile and shifted his gaze away from hers. 

“Okay,” Chloe said, nodding. She peeled off her jacket and pulled her t-shirt over her head in a no-nonsense fashion. “Clothes off. The last thing we need right now is for you to break your neck while taking a shower.” 

Lucifer raised a naughty eyebrow as his grin widened. He was truly incorrigible. 

“Don’t get any ideas, Lucifer,” Chloe told him. Her fingers began fiddling with his shirt buttons. “It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before. Focus!” 

“You have a really funny way of persuading a man to focus on something other than sex, Detective.” 

“Lucifer,” she warned. “I’m serious. I don’t want to leave you alone right now, but if you don’t need my help, I can always wait right outside for you to—“ 

“No,” he rushed to say. His eyes stared at Chloe in a panic, and she could detect a certain vulnerability that made her heart clench. “Please, don’t… don’t leave.” 

Lucifer’s expression was a mixture of desperation and shame. His gaze trailed down to her breastbone and landed on the bullet necklace he’d given her on her last birthday. He ceased his stabilizing grip at her shoulder to trace the uneven ridges of the pendant’s contour with reverence. 

“Please, don’t leave, Detective,” he repeated in a little over a whisper. 

_Was he really afraid to be left alone? Was it something else?_

Chloe offered him a reassuring smile. 

“Okay,” she told him softly. “It’s okay.” 

**[To Be Continued…]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thanks for reading, guys. I'll be travelling next week and won’t be able to post a chapter on Thursday, so I’ll see you in two weeks. ;-)**


	17. Melting Clocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello, guys! Thank you so much for all the kudos and bookmarks! You guys rock! I'd like to especially thank you for taking the time to leave a comment. I'm travelling again this week, so I'm posting this a little earlier.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Please be warned that, while there is nothing explicit, the story touches upon the issue of child abuse.**
> 
> **A huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ and _BelenP_ for their help and support as betas.** 
> 
> **I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

_Melting Clocks_

Chloe wasn’t sure how to help Lucifer brainstorm on how to stop the inevitable. She refused to be a downer, but how the hell was she, little Chloe Decker, supposed to come up with a way to avert the _Apocalypse_? Or, even, nudge the conversation in the direction of a plausible solution? It was too much. __

They were both silent inside the shower stall as she ran a soapy washcloth over Lucifer’s body. The warmth of the water helped ease away some of the tension, but did little to bring about any semblance of clarity. Her brain seemed to be stuck inside a Dalí painting, with melting clocks in deserted wastelands, where everything was strange and surreal, a quagmire of incongruity from which escape was impossible. She was in a shower. Naked. With the Devil. Who was also naked. She was lathering the Prince of Darkness with musky-scented soap while the world outside was going down in flames. 

_How was this reality?_

Lucifer let out a heavy sigh. Eyes closed and head bowed, he appeared to be deep in thought. Or meditating. Or… praying, perhaps? Whatever the reason for his prolonged silence, Chloe thought it wise not to interrupt his introspection. Trying not to succumb to a futile sense of urgency, she simply moved her hand down his ribcage and across his stomach in slow, gentle circles. The intimacy of her touch was enough to awaken his arousal. But Lucifer didn’t act on the urge, or even address the physical evidence of his desire. 

“The bloody passage keeps eluding me,” he said instead. Frustration seeped into his tone like a venomous serpent, coiling around the small moan that escaped his lips when Chloe’s hand brushed against his upper thigh. 

“Are you referring to the Devil’s Prayer?” she asked him. 

“Yes.” 

His voice was lower and deeper than usual, and the way he’d stretched the ‘s’ made him sound somewhat… _reptilian_. 

Chloe applied another dollop of shower-gel onto the washcloth, and the scent of sandalwood filled the steamy space. She moved behind him, ran the cloth along the contour of his shoulders, following the path of his spine down his upper back. The ugly scars had disappeared, replaced by a pair of barely visible crescent moons that stretched outward, framing his shoulder blades with the faintest silver glow. 

“How did you come up with it in the first place?” Chloe wondered aloud. She tried to keep her voice as soothing as her touch, her hands now working on his lower back. 

Lucifer exhaled a quiet moan, then offered her a faint shrug. “It was all about defiance, Detective,” he replied. “The story of my existence, really. Dear Old Dad created a world with a bunch of stupid rules, and I never saw the point to them. So I pushed back. Paid the price. But…” 

His hands turned into fists and went to rest against the damp tiles in front of him. Lucifer let out a long, shaky sigh. 

“But what?” Chloe prompted quietly. 

“But _you_ shouldn’t,” he said through clenched teeth. “You shouldn’t have to pay for my… my blunder.” 

“Maybe if you asked your father for forgiveness, he might—“ 

Lucifer turned around, his frown so deep Chloe was forced to swallow back the rest of her sentence. She took a step back, feeling suddenly small and vulnerable under his scrutiny. 

“You really don’t know my father at all,” he said, almost a growl. 

His voice had taken on a dangerous edge. A chill ran up Chloe’s spine. 

“Okay,” she breathed out, unable to hide her unease. “Okay… but you mentioned he’d bargain with you. What do you think he wants?” 

“To torture me!” he snapped. 

Chloe’s gaze softened. “Lucifer…” she began. “He’s your father. Can’t you just reason wi—“ 

“You don’t understand, Detective,” he cut in. His voice was soft now, his eyes haunted. “I broke the _Sacred Law_. Nothing I do or say will change that fact. I killed a _human_. I made sure to seal his fate before he died. Emotion drove me to act on those instincts. _Hatred_ drove me to end Cain’s life. Plain and simple. I… I bloody _hated_ him.” 

Chloe swallowed hard, deciding to keep her hands busy by running the washcloth over his collarbone, though her aching heart was not on the task. “I should’ve seen right through his game,” she said. “I should’ve never let my feelings get in the way of seeing what was right in front of me. I regret making you feel like I chose _him_. I didn’t. Deep down I knew I was making a mistake.” 

“I didn’t hate him because of how your choices made me feel,” Lucifer said. His fingers began to play with a lock of her hair and, for a long moment, he seemed lost in a sea of memories. The water was now starting to come out lukewarm. “He opened fire on you,” Lucifer murmured. “He wanted to _kill_ you. He killed Charlotte Richards, lied to cover up her murder. He manipulated us for months. He set a trap and…” He swallowed hard, his expression pained. “He would’ve _killed_ _you_.” 

“But he failed!” Chloe said. Her hand, now at rest, lay on his chest. “We got out of there. Alive.” She offered him a nervous little smile, her heart hammering inside her chest. “ _H—how_ did we get out of there alive?” __

Lucifer’s hand moved to cup her cheek. “I’m your guardian Devil, remember?” he said through a faint smile. Chloe was still curious about the carpet of bloodied feathers at the art gallery. She longed for a more detailed answer, but she didn’t get one. She got a promise instead. “I’d do anything to keep you safe.” Lucifer broke eye contact, and a mild grimace crossed his features. “At least, I’d try my bloody damndest.” 

Lucifer had never been more transparent to Chloe than at that very moment. She was suddenly infected with his sense of impotence and guilt. 

“I don’t blame you for any of this,” she assured him. “You’ll find a way to stop it… _We’ll_ find a way.” 

He nodded, but his face looked grim. “I wish I could promise you that much, darling.” 

“We _will_!” she insisted. 

He blinked a few times, jaw clenched. “I just… I’m currently at a loss...” His breathing became shallow and choppy. “The answers linger somewhere—” _Short breath_. “—in a remote corner on my brain.” _Short breath_. “I’d… I’d really…” Lucifer tried to inhale. He was now gasping for air. “Det— _Detective_!” His hand flew to his chest, and he clutched the skin over his heart as he struggled to get air into his lungs. 

“Lucifer!” 

Alarmed, Chloe cupped his face with both hands and forced him to maintain eye contact. There was no loss of control over his human form, no nosebleed, no color draining from his pallor... This was not some sort of strange, supernatural affliction. Chloe recognized the signs, and found small comfort in the familiarity. 

“Relax. You’re okay,” she told him. He stared at her, confusion, doubt and panic all rolled into one. “Try to even your breathing.” 

“That’s… easier said…” _Gasp._ “…than done…” 

“You’re having an anxiety attack.” 

Lucifer cocked his head, his frown of bewilderment almost comical. “A…” A sharp intake of breath cut his question short. “A _what_?!” 

Chloe raked her fingers through the damp hair of his temples. “Shh,” she hushed. “Just breathe. Trust me.” 

He did as he was told. Chloe stood before him whispering empty words of comfort into the meager space that separated them. Water drenched them as rivulets of steam began to dissolve around them in the increasingly cooling water. Lucifer kept his eyes shut, head bowed. His hands, which rested against Chloe’s hips, trembled slightly with every gasp. His short, intermittent breaths soon stretched into longer, deeper ones. 

“That’s it,” Chloe murmured near his lips. “Just breathe.” 

His fingers tightened around her hips. 

“I enjoyed it,” Lucifer said hoarsely. 

His words were strained and thick. 

Chloe’s eyebrows rose, and a baffled scoff escaped her lips. “You have a kink for… _anxiety attacks_?” 

Lucifer lifted his gaze in search for hers. 

“Killing Cain,” he said darkly. “I _enjoyed_ it.” 

“Lucifer…” 

“I wanted to see the fear in his eyes as he descended into Hell. I wanted him to _feel_ that fear. I wanted him to feel what I felt when—” Lucifer swallowed hard, his eyes lost on some point beyond Chloe’s shoulder. “—when you fell into my arms after he shot you.” 

Chloe lifted her arms and pulled him into a hug. His torment was like a thick blanket wrapped around them both, heavy and suffocating. 

“I didn’t mean… Detective…” Lucifer breathed into the crook of her neck. “What have I done…? What have I d—” 

He broke down in her arms. Chloe held him as they embraced in a cocoon of water and despair. She raked her fingers through his damp hair while sobs racked his body. Exhausted and overwhelmed, all she could do was whisper hollow nothings that escaped in a cold swirl down the drain. Her own eyes burned with restrained tears, with the affliction of a broken soul. 

It was Lucifer who eventually broke the spell. He turned off the water and reached for the bath towel right outside the stall, wrapping the soft cotton around them both. Her back pressed against his chest as he embraced her from behind. 

“I think, deep down, I’m afraid to come up with the answer,” Lucifer said. 

Fear. Is that what was causing the mental barrier? 

“Why would you say that?” Chloe asked. 

“You’re a miracle.” 

Chloe’s lips stretched into a bittersweet smile. “I wouldn’t go _that_ far.” 

“No, Detective. You truly _are_ a miracle” he insisted, his tone solemn. “And I’m terrified of what that could mean.” 

A heavy silence followed, broken only by the faint rumbling of the bathroom fan. 

“I… I don’t understand.” 

“The Devil’s Prayer…” Lucifer began. “It requires an offering. A quid pro quo.” His fingers slid across her collarbone and traced the contour of the bullet necklace around her neck. “But, you see, there are certain things I’d _never_ bargain with.” 

And it was at that moment that Chloe came to grasp the stifling omnipresence of time. The clock was melting, and she dreaded the possibility that she might just have a key role in this surreal painting. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Chloe felt drained and oddly numb when she stepped out of the master bedroom. They hadn’t emerged from the shower with any definitive answers, but perhaps the jumble of ideas swirling in Lucifer’s head would come into focus once the fog settled—literally and metaphorically speaking. 

She was clad in a pair of Maze's black leggings, along with one of Lucifer’s shirts, which draped to her mid-thigh. Lucifer had requested some time alone to gather his thoughts, so Chloe had respected his wishes, hoping their so-called “brainstorming session” would somehow jolt his memory. 

A pleasant surprise awaited her when she walked into the living room. Amenadiel stood by the huge glass door that led to the infinity pool, and was speaking to Linda in a soft murmur. Chloe was about to walk up to him when she spotted Trixie on the sofa curled up against… 

“Dan!” she choked out in a whisper. Relief brought tears to her eyes. 

She rushed to her ex-husband’s side and gave him a hug, careful not to wake up their sleeping daughter. 

“How did you…?” Chloe began to ask. 

“Amenadiel brought me here,” Dan replied. “I must have fallen asleep on the way up. I don’t really remember much of the drive over.” 

“Yeah…” Chloe smiled at him, but didn’t offer any further explanations. 

“What I _do_ remember,” Dan continued, “is the chaos. It’s crazy out there, Chloe! They're sending everybody to government shelters. I’m surprised we all made it past the military checkpoints. I feared you might have…” 

“I know.” 

Chloe felt that familiar tightening of her throat. She caressed Trixie’s hair, reveling in her sleeping form, in the way her dark eyelashes caressed her smooth cheeks, and how her chest rose and fell with every breath… The distant nightmare of her being left alone with a sixteen-year-old predator seemed surreal after everything that had happened. Chloe knew she would have to discuss the matter with Dan at some point. 

_At some point… Will the opportunity arise at all?_

“Hey, Chlo.” Dan’s voice rescued Chloe before she could fall into a treacherous well of panic. He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” 

Fearing her voice might break, Chloe forced out a smile and nodded. Her eyes travelled to where Amenadiel and Linda were engaged in an intimate conversation. As if the angel had noticed Chloe watching, he turned his head, and their eyes met. She gave him slight nod of gratitude from across the room that was promptly reciprocated with a nod of acknowledgement. 

“Do you know if my mom has made it to one of those shelters?” Chloe asked. 

Dan exhaled and raked a hand through his hair. “I have no idea. I… I certainly hope so.” 

“How about _your_ parents? Have you heard from them?” 

“No,” Dan replied quietly. 

For the first time in her life, Chloe offered a silent prayer to a now very real deity, in hopes He would keep her loved ones safe. She prayed for her mom. She prayed for her daughter. She prayed for Dan, and his parents. 

And she prayed for the Devil. 

_Please, don’t let it all end like this._

_Please, let him find the answer._

_Please..._

_Please…_

Chloe felt awkward sending her thoughts to an invisible entity. An entity who probably wasn't particularly interested in her insignificant thoughts. Nobody had ever taught her _how_ to pray. For all she knew, she might be doing it wrong. 

“Daniel!” Lucifer’s voice boomed over the whispered conversations. He entered the living-room wearing navy-blue trousers and a light-blue shirt, which he hadn’t bother to tuck in. The dark circles under his eyes hadn’t disappeared. He looked worn and haggard, but was obviously trying to put on a fresh, chipper front. “I didn’t think you’d make it.” 

“Geez, thanks man!” Dan grumbled tiredly. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Lucifer said defensively. “I meant… I’m glad you’re here.” 

Dan’s eyebrow shot skyward. “Really?” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Yes, really. I’m not a monst—” He pressed his lips, clenched his jaw. “Anyway, one less headache to sort through.” 

“Do you happen to have any painkillers?” Ella’s voice came from deep inside the opposite hallway. “I don’t know which pain is worse: my head’s or my ankle’s.” 

She limped into the living room looking clean, and slightly more refreshed. The moment she spotted Dan, her eyes widened. She rushed to him, practically hopping on one foot the entire length of the living room, and embracing him in a bear hug that miraculously managed not to wake up Trixie. 

Maze appeared behind Ella, watching the entire exchange with obvious disgust. 

“There might be some Oxy stashed somewhere in the kitchen,” Maze said in answer to Ella’s question. “Way more effective than any of that… what do you call it? ‘Over-the-counter’ stuff.” 

Maze found said “stash” in a matter of minutes and handed it to Ella, along with a shot glass filled with a clear liquid, probably Vodka. 

Lightning had begun to fire up the sky. Electric fingers dug through the clouds like giant skeletons. Everyone gathered around the coffee table: Ella and Maze sat on the floor, Linda and Amenadiel side by side at the edge of the sectional, while Trixie slept between Dan and Chloe. Trixie stirred, then settled back into a deep sleep when Chloe adjusted the furry blanket over her tiny shoulders and began rubbing her back in comforting circles. Lucifer was the only one who remained standing, pacing back and forth in front of the empty fireplace, whiskey tumbler in hand. 

“I wish I could offer you definitive answers, brother,” Amenadiel spoke, “But the Council is keeping us in the dark. All I can tell you is that a lot of our siblings are on your side. Surprisingly.” 

Lucifer scoffed. “Typical Dad! Making everyone sweat bullets for his own bloody amusement!” 

“Dad didn’t unleash this upon the world, Luci,” Amenadiel said. “ _You_ did!” 

“Could everyone please stop rubbing it in?” Lucifer growled. His gaze panned across the room, and his jaw clenched. “Look, I know killing Cain had unfortunate consequences, but he… he _had it coming_ , damn it!” 

Lucifer was still trying desperately to justify his actions, Chloe realized with a heavy heart. Little did everyone else know how much his decision to end Cain’s life was killing him inside. 

“Wait, _Cain_?” Dan frowned. “Are you talking about… _Pierce?_ ” 

“Okay, fine,” Amenadiel conceded. “Let’s just focus on what we know. The answers lie in the Codex Gigas—in the book of _contrasts_. Which means…” 

“The only way to reverse this fiasco is to flip the proverbial coin. _Somehow_ ,” Lucifer reasoned. 

“So, that means Cain’s murder has to be countered by something equally drastic,” Maze summed up. 

“Okay, _Cain_?!” Dan repeated. “Wait… was it really you who killed Pea—“ 

“An eye for an eye,” Lucifer cut in. He looked paler and gaunter under the living-room lights. _Unwell_. “Revenge in its finest form.” 

“Isn’t ‘an eye for an eye’ a concept from the Old Testament?” Ella pointed out. She looked almost as tired and worn as the Devil. 

“It is,” Amenadiel replied. “But it is also a central theme in the Codex which, by the way, my brother took _all_ the credit for writing.” 

“I _did_ write it!” 

“Not all of it!” Amenadiel shot back. 

“Ridiculous Devil depictions that bear absolutely no resemblance to ‘yours truly’ don’t count!” Lucifer snarled. 

Amenadiel scoffed. “And, yet, that’s the one page that has kept humans mesmerized for centuries.” 

“Oh, please, brother! It's the mystery surrounding the book that's kept humans mesmerized for centuries!” 

“And _who_ helped you fool an entire Benedictine monastery into believing you had written all 300-plus pages in _one_ night?” 

“Am I supposed to thank you for maki—?” 

“Okay!!” Linda jumped in. “Time: running out. World: ending. Can we _please_ move on?” 

“What. The. Fuck!” Dan spat, looking at everybody as if they had gone insane. 

“Oh, dear!” Lucifer scoffed. He took a sip of whiskey, his grimace poorly hidden behind the tumbler. “I’m afraid Daniel’s in for a rough awakening.” 

Dan scowled. “Seriously, what the hell are you guys talking ab—?” 

“Is there any way to access the information in that book through any other means?” Chloe inquired. 

“The Codex was most likely burned to a crisp when Lux tower collapsed,” Maze said, then turned to Lucifer. “Wasn’t there a replica, somewhere?” 

“In Stockholm,” Amenadiel replied. “But I’m afraid the Swedish National Library is now entirely under water.” 

“How about digital copies of the book?” Chloe pressed. 

“There is no Internet,” Ella said. “We can’t even get satellite reception. Trust me. I’ve already tried to access the outside world through that laptop over there.” She pointed toward the hallway. “Besides, Lord only knows how much juice is left in the generator at this point.” 

Lightning struck nearby, and thunder boomed a second later, loud enough to make all windows rattle. Lights flickered inside the home as they held onto their wavering power. Lucifer rubbed his temples with a tight grimace, his eyes shutting tightly for several seconds. 

“That wouldn’t be of any use anyhow,” Amenadiel said, capturing everyone’s attention except for Chloe’s, who kept watching Lucifer with concern as he started pacing again. “The twelve pages that covered the end of time went missing sometime back in the fourteenth century. The only copy that included the _Devil’s Prayer_ was the one Lucifer kept at Lux. And that one probably burned along with the tower.” 

Lucifer let out a low curse. “Brilliant!” His voice was clipped. “The bloody horsemen’s handy work.” 

“They’re _real_?” Linda gasped. 

“Yes,” Lucifer deadpanned. “They run around setting things on fire and raining all over people’s parades.” When Linda, Chloe and Ella stared at him in shock, Lucifer rolled his eyes. “They’re obviously a _metaphor_!” He chuckled. “You humans!” 

“Have you all gone _insane_?” Dan looked around the room with a deep scowl. “Are we _really_ having a conversation about the fucking Apocal—” 

“Back to ‘an eye for an eye,’” Ella cut in. “If Lucifer unleashed Armageddon by killing a human, then him saving a human life might stop it. A counter-action, right? I know I’m grasping at straws here, but can we please get back to trying to _fix_ this?” 

“And what exactly would you have me do, Ms. Lopez?” Lucifer replied tiredly. “Hop from hospital to hospital giving terminal patients mouth-to-mouth resuscitations?” 

“Maybe the answer isn't in saving an already existing life,” Linda interjected. Her gaze scrolled across humans and celestials. “Maybe the answer is in the _creation_ ofa life.” 

The statement rendered the room silent. Confusion turned into realization as six pairs of eyes fell upon Chloe. 

“Wait,” Chloe said, chuckling without amusement. “You can’t seriously be suggesting…” 

“That’s crazy!” Maze jumped in. “And, besides, even if it works… It’s not like we have, what is it? Nine months—or however long you humans take to gestate a spawn—to find out!” 

Ella turned to Maze. “Some people believe life begins at conception.” 

“Can somebody please tell me what the fuck are you people talking about?” Dan griped. 

Lucifer turned to Chloe, his head tilted as they shared a private glance. Lightning struck again, followed by rumbling thunder. 

“It won’t work,” Lucifer said in the end. He stopped pacing, his eyes drooping as if he had just ran out of batteries. 

After a long, baffled pause, Linda finally voiced the question that lingered unspoken. “Why not?” 

“Your solution is flawed.” Lucifer swallowed hard, as if he were trying to trample down nausea. “Even in the off-chance I could conceive a child which, mind you, has _never_ happened before in the history of humanity, the spawn wouldn’t be the answer we’re looking for.” 

Exhaustion made it nearly impossible for the humans in the room to follow Lucifer’s train of thought, but both Maze and Amenadiel caught on immediately. 

“The spawn wouldn’t be human,” Maze said quietly. “Lucifer is unable to create life in human form.” 

Lucifer rubbed his temples, looking drained. “Lucifer is unable to create life, _period_ ,” he said. 

“But on the off-chance that you could,” Amenadiel turned to his brother, “it wouldn’t be something we’d want to unleash unto the world, either. Scriptures have warned humanity about the Devil’s spawn for eons, and for good reason.” 

“Yes,” Lucifer agreed with a tired sigh. “Parenthood is a spectacularly dreadful pastime. Glad I dodged that bullet. Shall we move on to other solutions that won’t make me break into hives?” 

“This is _really_ not the best time for pranks,” Dan said, visibly disturbed. “Please tell me I’m not losing my mind here.” 

“You most definitely a—” 

Lucifer’s mocking reply was stunted by a gut-wrenching gasp. His face twisted into a grimace just as his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor with a painful groan. A lightning bolt hit the metal railings of the veranda outside with a loud crack and everything went dark. 

Everything, but Lucifer’s glowing body. 

**[To Be Continued…]**


	18. Order Must Be Restored

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello, Lucifans! Thanks to all of you who are still keeping up with the  
>  story. I’m really flattered by all the kudos and bookmarks. I’m  
> especially grateful to those of you who take the time to drop me a line  
> after each chapter. Thank you so much! I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping  
> up with the replies, but I have been travelling this past week and I  
> have barely had time for anything. **
> 
> **Also, I have a bit of good news and a bit of bad news. Good news first.  
>  There are currently two written endings and my betas don’t agree on  
> which one I should post so, as much as I hate doing this because I  
> promised myself I would never do it again, I might just as well post  
> both endings as chapters 19a & 19b. You should know I’m the most  
> indecisive person in the world and cannot break the tie. So, there is  
> that. The bad news is that the tweaking of the endings might take an  
> extra week. I do apologize for the delay, but I would hate to  
> short-change you on the last chapters.**
> 
> ****A very special thanks to _ariaadagio_ and _BelenP_ for  
> their guidance and support, my two wonderful betas who do not let me  
> get away with anything! (You guys know what I mean) ;-) ********
> 
> ********Please be warned that, while there is nothing explicit, the story  
>  touches upon the issue of child abuse.** ** ** **
> 
> ********Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this chapter.** ** ** **

_Order Must Be Restored_

“Lucifer!” 

Chloe jumped from the couch and rushed to where Lucifer was convulsing on the floor, his head back, a bluish glow emanating from his body in pulsing waves. His wings unfurled. Massive and majestic, they stretched out almost the entire width of the living-room. 

“Chloe, wait!” Amenadiel warned. “Don’t—!” 

A powerful discharge propelled Chloe backwards the moment her hand came in contact with Lucifer’s body. She was stunned for a few seconds. Her foggy brain vaguely registered the peculiar way her body kept vibrating after the shock. Distant voices expressed concern for her wellbeing. But none of those things mattered. Lucifer writhed a few feet away from her, and there was nothing she could do to ease his struggle. 

After what felt like an eternity, the glow began to dim. The power in the house, however, never came back on, and only the surreal crimson sky showing through the massive glass panels illuminated the inside of the house. The strange energy, which seemed to emanate from Lucifer, faintly hummed all around them. 

Lucifer’s preternatural glow finally died down, and his muscles relaxed, leaving his body limp. For a terrifying moment, Chloe feared the worst. She was the first one to react, approaching him on all fours and placing her hand on his shoulder tentatively. Lucifer, unresponsive, lay on his side, left arm stretched over his head. 

“Lucifer?” Chloe called. 

She shook his shoulder gently, but got no response. 

“Wake up,” she said, her voice cracking. 

Chloe hadn’t noticed Amenadiel kneeling beside her until he spoke. 

“This is not supposed to happen in this realm,” he said. He placed his hand on his brother’s chest and closed his eyes. “Certain celestial powers are… ‘ _yeinyd._ ’ It is not easy to find the right word in English. The only language with an equivalent word would be Aramaic. Essentially, not all angels can use their power on Earth. I guess the best explanation I can come up with is… ‘Incompatible with the world around us.’” 

“Power?” Chloe said. She felt numb. 

“He is the Light Bringer, Chloe.” 

His words filled the room, but nobody spoke. Everybody shared wide-eyed glances. 

“When his power is unleashed in a Celestial realm, suns and stars are formed,” Amenadiel continued. “Here on Earth, the energy released would… it would probably kill him and most likely destroy the planet. That’s why his power is ‘ _yeinyd_ ’ in this realm.” 

“I thought his power was to draw out people’s desires,” Chloe said in a small voice. A silly counter-argument, really. The whole thing seemed right out of a fantasy novel. 

Amenadiel offered her a clipped smile. “That’s just part of my brother’s duality.” Chloe’s face must have been an open question mark, so he clarified. “He’s also the _Devil_.” 

Lucifer let out a quiet moan and began to stir. His eyelids fluttered several times, his gaze unfocused on the people hovering around him before it landed on Chloe. He blinked tiredly, opening his mouth to say something, but failed. He winced, sitting up with difficulty. Only then did he seem to notice his still-outstretched wings, which he retracted slowly. 

Maze handed him a glass filled with a coppery-colored liquid, which Lucifer accepted with a shaky hand. The pungent smell of whiskey filled Chloe’s nostrils as she watched Lucifer gulp the drink down in just a few swigs. Panting, he gave the empty glass back to Maze and rested his back against the sectional sofa. 

“What th-hell happened?” Lucifer slurred. 

Amenadiel was squatting next to him, concern etched in his expression. He said something to Lucifer in a strange language, which was met with a baffled frown. 

“That’s impossible!” Lucifer said. He stared at his brother in a panic, then his gaze roamed over everyone else. He seemed utterly disconcerted. 

“Are you okay?” Chloe whispered. She was kneeling beside him, her hand on his shoulder. She could still feel the ethereal energy humming through his body under her palm. 

“I’m… I’ll be fine.” He cleared his throat. “I—If you’ll excuse me, I… uh, I need some air.” 

He refused any help as he stood up and stumbled onto the terrace. Everyone else was left in silent shock. Trixie had woken up from her slumber, and sat stunned and seemingly terrified next to Dan, who wore the exact same lost expression as his daughter. Chloe offered them what she hoped was a reassuring glance, kissed Trixie on the head, and told her everything was going to be all right. 

An empty promise filled with optimism. 

Chloe watched Lucifer hold onto the veranda outside, most likely to keep his balance given his weakened state. He looked gaunt and frail, and her sense of impotence grew tenfold. She wanted to go to him. But what could she even say? How could she comfort him when she barely understood what was happening? 

“All he needs is to know you’re there for him.” 

She turned at the sound of Amenadiel’s quiet voice. Feeling extremely insecure, Chloe offered him a fake grin and a nod of compliance before following Lucifer outside. The air was heavy and hot from the nearby fires, the night sky painted in hues of ominous reds and purples. Streaks of green flowed in and out of sight in a gloomy celestial dance. 

_Radiation…_

Chloe’s stomach turned and she felt lightheaded. She took a moment to stabilize herself when a sudden wave of dizziness almost made her lose her balance. 

“It is only a matter of hours, now,” Lucifer said without turning around. 

Chloe’s chest constricted, whether from the sound of his voice or the noticeable change in the atmosphere, she couldn’t be sure. She walked to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, her head resting against his back. He flinched, and she wondered if, perhaps, he’d rather be alone. She was about to apologize when he turned around and pulled her into a tender embrace. 

“You’ll forget. You will not be offered a choice,” he said. “I, on the other hand, will be haunted by the memory of what could’ve been for eternity.” 

Chloe closed her eyes. Her mind began sailing adrift despite her best efforts to focus on what he was saying. “I… I don’t understand,” she mumbled. 

“Once you get to… _that place_ ,” Lucifer said in a strangled whisper, “you will forget me, Detective.” 

“I…” She shook her head. “No. How could I ever forget you?” 

“You will; trust me.” His embrace tightened around her. “You will know _of_ me, I’m notorious that way. But you’ll have no recollection of what we had, or what we… meant to each other.” 

His words lingered between them, but Chloe refused to believe she could ever forget falling in love with the Devil. Her heart would not betray her in such a way, but she was too tired to engage in a cosmic discussion. All she wanted at the moment was to be held. Funny, she was the one who was supposed to be offering comfort. 

“You’ve given up,” she whispered. 

His chest expanded and deflated in a sigh that required no clarification. “As you humans like to say: it ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings,” he answered sullenly. 

Chloe offered him a groggy nod, her eyelids heavy. 

“I would’ve done it, you know,” she confessed. “I… I would’ve had a baby with you.” 

Lucifer tensed for a second, then chuckled. “You lucked out, there, Detective,” he said. She could detect a mild grin in his voice. “I would’ve made a _terrible_ father.” 

“I’m pretty sure Trixie would disagree.” 

“Yes, well, considering Daniel is your child’s _actual_ father, I can understand how she’d see me as an improvement.” 

Chloe chuckled. 

Lucifer pulled back to look into her eyes. “How are you holding up?” His voice had lost all traces of jocularity and was now as grim as his expression. 

“I’m… okay,” Chloe lied. But the weight of his stare made all pretense crumble. “I’m scared.” 

His hand cupped her cheek, a tender thumb brushing her skin in a soft caress. “Don’t be. I’ll be with you until…” 

A familiar prickling made Chloe’s eyes sting. “…Until you’re not.” 

His eyes reflected the same sadness and longing that she felt. 

“I love you,” Chloe heard herself saying. 

She swallowed hard. The words had burst straight out of her soul. She couldn’t have stopped them even if she wanted to. Nor did she regret them. 

Lucifer stared at her in shock. He studied her face for a long moment, possibly wondering she'd been jesting. 

His warm eyes took in every one of her facial features in blatant adoration. “I don’t deserve you, Chloe,” he said. “You brought out a certain part of me I believed to be long dead. I got to feel things I never thought… No one believed the Devil could ever fall in love. Yet, here we are.” 

Something melted inside Chloe’s chest. She rose to her tiptoes and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Lucifer’s arm snaked around her waist as he pulled her against him. Their mouths engaged in a sensual game, both tender and passionate. The bitter taste of goodbye mingling with the sweetness of denial. 

Chloe felt the humming of his body against hers—a strange reverberation that made the entire ground pulsate. Lucifer quickly broke the kiss, stepping away from her. His expression warned her to stay away. His eyes lit up, as bright as the sun, and his wings unfurled in a flash of blinding energy that made her squint against the striking intensity. 

“L—Lucifer! _What…?_ ” 

A rush of wind almost knocked Chloe off her feet. She held onto the veranda to keep her balance, blinked a few times, and tried to see through the fog that had suddenly materialized as if by magic. Lucifer struggled to regain control of his human form, winning the battle with obvious difficulty. He was panting as he turned to face the dying whirlwind. 

A tall, slender figure practically glided forward, flaming red hair blowing behind her. 

“Zerachiel,” Lucifer murmured under his breath. 

Chloe couldn’t tear her eyes away from the stunning woman. “You… know each other?” she asked quietly. 

Lucifer exhaled. “She’s my sister.” 

Zerachiel walked to Lucifer, her glance traveling to Chloe for several terrifying seconds. Her honey-hazel eyes appeared to glow, not from within, the way the Devil’s did, but as a reflection of the crimson sky above them. 

“If you don’t mind,” Lucifer began, his voice low. “I’d rather spend my last minutes on Earth avoiding one of our riveting conversations.” 

An almost-smile appeared on Zerachiel’s face. “Believe it or not, I’m here as an ally, Lucifer,” she said. Her face was impossible to read. 

By contrast, Lucifer’s expression was an open book, his skepticism crystal-clear in his dark eyes. “Why do I feel like I might be walking right into a trap?” 

A strange form of electricity crackled in the air, something Chloe couldn’t see as much as feel at a cellular level. Her hands began to shake and, a second later, her body followed suit. She was having a hard time keeping her knees from buckling, so she held onto Lucifer to keep her balance. His arm was draped around her shoulders protectively or, perhaps, to keep his own dwindling balance. 

Zerachiel studied them, her head cocked. 

“I’m not your enemy, brother,” she said. Her voice was hypnotic. “Believe me when I tell you, I come in peace.” 

“Well, that’s a first!” Lucifer snarled. 

“There is a first time for everything. But, I don’t need to tell you that, do I?” Zerachiel said, her gaze shifting to Chloe, then back to Lucifer. “Here. This is for you.” She extended an ornate silver dagger towards Lucifer, who hesitated for a second before taking it. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

Zerachiel’s eyes filled with tears. “An answered prayer.” 

Lucifer frowned as he carefully studied the shining blade. There was an engraved inscription along the grip, but Chloe couldn’t decipher what it said. He obviously could, and his eyes widened. 

“This…” he said in a barely audible breath. “I… Where did you get this?” 

“ _The answer lies in that which its twin is missing_ ,” Zerachiel said. “The Codex Gigas was a dangerous book back in the fourteenth century. That passage in particular. You know why. The inscription holds the answer you’re seeking.” 

“The _Devil’s Prayer_ ,” Lucifer replied. He let out a scoff of incredulity. 

“W—what does it say?” Chloe asked. 

“ _Hate is to death, what love is to life_ ,” Lucifer translated. 

_Okay… what the hell did that mean?_ Chloe didn’t ask the question. She just stood close to Lucifer, dumbstruck and unable to voice a single coherent thought. 

“This blade,” Lucifer began. “It is unforgiving, isn’t it?” 

“As was the Flaming Sword,” Zerachiel replied. 

Lucifer tightened his fingers around the silver grip. 

“I don’t know if Father will ever forgive me for this,” Zerachiel told him. Tears streaked her alabaster cheeks. “I’m certain I’ll never be able to forgive myself.” She turned to Chloe, a sad smile tugging at her lips. “I wish you fortitude, Human Miracle.” 

Zerachiel stepped closer to Lucifer and kissed him on the cheek. She then took several steps back, her honey-eyes glowing in the hellish dawn. Chloe could no longer trust her senses. The sky lit up in dancing flashes of greens and yellows. Northern Lights. In the middle of spring. In Southern California… 

The angelic figure vanished. Chloe found herself once again alone in the ample terrace, next to a pensive Lucifer who studied the cryptic words of an ancient prayer etched God-knew-how-long-ago on the mysterious blade. He appeared tense, his jaw clenched and brow creased. Chloe feared he might be fighting another wave of… whatever the hell was affecting him in such a vile manner. She herself felt sick—nauseated—as she tried to keep her balance. 

Lucifer draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a firm embrace. His lips pressed against her temple, and Chloe thought she heard him apologize. She wasn't thinking straight anymore. It was impossible for her to focus. When he pulled away, he placed the blade in Chloe’s hand, his fingers wrapping around her knuckles in a silent command for her to wield it. Then, to her horror, Lucifer guided the weapon to his chest. Chloe looked down to find the sharp point of the blade resting just above his heart. 

Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m sorry, darling…” he said, trying to smile. “There’s no other way.” 

“W—what are you talking about?” 

Horrified by what he was asking her to do, Chloe began to shake. 

“I killed Cain,” Lucifer said, his voice surprisingly calm and steady. “I wish I could say I ended his life to preserve some sense of justice, or to punish him for what he had done over the centuries. What he had done to _you_!” Lucifer swallowed hard. “But that wasn’t the case. That wasn’t what led me to end his life. It was _hate_.” 

Chloe didn’t know how to reply to that. Her head was spinning, and she couldn't breathe. 

“B—but...” she stuttered. “Th—this is crazy, Lucifer! I can’t!” 

“Order must be restored, Detective.” This time his voice did break. “I ended a human life in an act of hatred. Now, a human must end mine in…” 

An invisible knife sliced through Chloe’s heart. Her eyes filled with unshed tears in a moment of clarity, and understanding. 

“… in an act of _love_ ,” she finished for him. 

Lucifer held Chloe’s wrist tightly, pressed his chest closer to the blade. “There isn’t much time,” he urged. 

Chloe shook her head in denial. “I c-can’t! Please, don’t ask me to do this!” 

“Detective…” 

“No! I will not do this! Lucifer… I can’t!!” 

“Damn it! Don’t you get it?” Lucifer bellowed, his anger rising. “It’s the only way! Think of what’s at stake. Think of… Think of _Trixie_!” 

_Damn him!_

The sound of him uttering her daughter’s name made her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Her hands felt clammy around the grip of the dagger as his fingers dug into the skin of her bruising wrist. 

“Chloe… _please_!” he implored. “We’ll all be dead in less than an hour otherwise. You _have_ to!” 

Chloe blinked to release the welling tears that were blurring her vision, their warmth slid down her cheeks slowly, marking the passing of each precious second. Lucifer’s eyes were on hers, intense, as if he were trying to infuse her with the resolve she clearly lacked. Her fingers readjusted on the metal grip, her wrist screaming in pain under the pressure of his fingers. 

“Here,” he practically snarled. “Let me make this easier for you!” 

In less than a second, Lucifer’s features transformed. Chloe found herself looking into the Devil’s reptilian stare. She gasped in momentary shock, swallowing back a scream of terror. But it didn’t take long for her to see past the mask, and into the soul of her partner—her _best friend_ —and the man she loved. For, no matter the appearance of the outer shell, he couldn’t possibly conceal what lay underneath. 

Chloe shook her head. “I know what you’re doing,” she told him. “And no. This doesn’t make it any easier! Why would you even think that?” 

“I am a monster, Detective,” he said hoarsely. “Look around you! The death! The destruction! I caused all of this! I deserve to die!” 

“You don’t!” Chloe bellowed. “I told you! I can’t do this! Lucifer, please… _please_ don’t make me do this! Do you have any idea what this will do to…?” 

… _Me._

An overwhelming feeling of selfishness prevented her from finishing the sentence out loud. The planet was crumbling. Humanity about to go extinct. Her daughter would never get the chance to grow old, to lead a life of her own and be happy. No other child would. No other person would. The fate of the world was, quite literally, in her hands. 

“It’s _you_ , Chloe,” Lucifer said, his voice a sea of calm. “It has to be you. You _know_ that.” 

Chloe was unable to hold back a sob. Lucifer closed his eyes, his Devil face at peace for a moment. When he opened his eyes again there was tenderness in the blazing depths. He nodded once. Tightening the hold on her wrist. 

“I love you, Lucifer,” she whimpered. 

The ease with which the knife penetrated Lucifer’s chest surprised her. She refused to believe the deed had been done until the warmth of Lucifer’s blood began soaking her hand. 

“It’s going to be… okay, d-darling,” he said with a ghost of a smile. 

Trembling. Heartbroken. Chloe allowed her tears to flow freely. Things would _not_ be okay. Not without him. Not by a long shot. 

_God! Didn’t he know that?_

She tried to prevent him from falling when his legs lost all strength and his knees buckled, but the best she managed to do was ease his body to the ground. She failed in her attempt to put on a brave front. Numb and scared, all she could do was whisper empty platitudes in a feeble attempt to comfort him. She caressed his face, smearing blood along his cheek and jawline. 

He looked human once again. 

Their gaze met, and she knew that she’d be haunted for years to come by that moment. 

Her quivering fingers raked through Lucifer’s hair as he slipped away. 

“You’re taking a part of me with you,” she confessed as his light began to dim. 

Chloe cradled Lucifer’s inert body in her arms, the shards of her broken heart tearing her apart from the inside. 

**[To Be Continued…]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Don't despair. This story does not come with a "major character death" warning for a reason. ;-)**


	19. Here for You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello, guys! Thank you so much for all the kudos and bookmarks! You guys rock! I'd like to especially thank you for taking the time to leave a comment.**
> 
>  
> 
> **As to the Pierce vs. Pearce debacle, I'm going to have to concede to those of you who pointed out the spelling being Pierce, since there are more instances of the name in that form throughout the show and interviews. I will change it accordingly. It was a fun back and forth, though. ;-)**
> 
>  
> 
> **Please be warned that, while there is nothing explicit, the story touches upon the issue of child abuse.**
> 
>  
> 
>  **A huge thanks to ariaadagio and BelenP for their help and support as betas.**
> 
>  
> 
> **I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

_Here for You_

A breath hitched in Chloe's throat. The sun shone way too brightly in the sky, forced her to blink against its intensity. Such a gorgeous day was a strange juxtaposition to the horror that had just taken place, but such was life—it carried on. The weather couldn’t give a damn who lived or who died.  


Her trembling hand wandered up to her chest and met Lucifer’s above her still beating heart. 

“What happened?” she said on an exhale. 

Adrenaline flooded Lucifer’s veins in a tidal wave. He drank in her image as her confusion intermingled with his relief. He cradled his human miracle as if she were about to magically disintegrate in his arms—this fragile creature who could make him feel on top of the world one moment, and break him into a million pieces the next. A divine puzzle. The bloody monkey wrench his Father had hurled into the mix, both a curse and a blessing. 

“You’re safe,” Lucifer told her. The swelling inside his chest became almost painful. “That’s all that matters.” 

Chloe stirred, awakening to the reality of the world around her, crawling back into the skin of the relentless detective he so admired, and Lucifer was overtaken by the strangest sense of déjàvu. 

“We need to find Pierce,” she said. 

The name fanned the flames of hatred in Lucifer’s soul, the stirrings of vengeance untamable. He soared off the roof toward the gallery, leaving Chloe behind as he was propelled by an insatiable thirst for revenge. His self-control shattered to pieces, much like the window he burst through when he made his grand entrance. Shards of rage rained over the handful of thugs who had not already fled the building in panic. Lucifer landed at the bottom of the stairway, his focus always on Cain as some of his loyal minions became collateral damage to Lucifer's wrath. 

The nuisance of dealing with petty mortals came to a quick, rather anticlimactic end, and Lucifer’s itch to punish Cain became all-consuming. 

Still crouching after having used his right wing in battle, Lucifer watched as the first murderer stepped in front of him, smug and unafraid. 

“I guess it’s just you and me now,” Cain said. 

Lucifer had seen this movie before. His lips stretched into a sinister smile. The sting of his wings was so intense, they were more a hindrance than an advantage at that point. Agonizing pain tore through his back as he struggled to tuck them in, making him grunt with discomfort but not deterring him in his purpose one iota. He stood up, his firm gaze squarely on Cain, his expression defiant. 

Seemingly unafraid, Cain pulled out a gun and fired his gun without preamble. He unloaded the clip on Lucifer, who withstood the hail of bullets unflinching, his white shirt ripped to shreds as the lead ricocheted off his body. But Lucifer had anticipated as much. 

There had been a shift in space-time, made clear by the faint images of this very moment playing out in Lucifer’s mind, as if it were the physical manifestation of a dream. He had little doubt he had lived through this moment before. The reason for the reprise was a mystery to him, but he’d gladly enjoy punishing this scumbag for a second time. 

“There’s no point,” Lucifer said, reveling in the disconcerted expression of his opponent. “The detective is a safe distance away, now.” 

Cain appeared apathetic as he tossed the empty gun to the side. 

“Ah, that's good,” he said, pulling one of Maze’s blades out of his back pocket, “I came prepared. As I recall, this can kill you pretty well.” 

The excitement of a challenge rushed through Lucifer’s veins like a drug. 

“A fair fight it is, then,” he said. “ _Cain._ ” 

Cain lunged forward in a vicious attack that Lucifer deflected effortlessly. Taunting the now-mortal human was going to be more enjoyable than he had expected. He scoffed at Cain’s failed attempt, his anger morphing into a strange sense of satisfaction. 

“Someone’s been working out,” Lucifer mocked as he adjusted his cufflink. 

Again, the witticism echoed back to him from some remote area of his mind. 

Cain charged once more, and Lucifer spun to deflect his attack, amused by the human’s ill-fated attempts to maim him. But Cain was relentless. He swung the blade yet again, barely missing Lucifer, who managed to block with one hand, while with the other backhanding Cain hard enough to make him stumble. But the bastard recovered surprisingly fast, twisting around with a swipe of the blade that sliced through Lucifer’s suit like butter, nicking his upper arm badly enough to sting. 

Lucifer clutched his arm, the blood seeping through the fabric triggering an image of him doing the very same thing, at the very same moment. Before. A sense of foreboding followed. He blinked the image away, and regarded Cain with renewed disgust, but also something else. Something that urged him to use restraint. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what kept nagging him. Strange images kept popping in and out of his brain. 

_A bloodshot sky. Cracking lightning. Rumbling thunder..._

_You’re taking a piece of me with you…_

Lucifer blocked another attack, this time hitting Cain hard once under the arm, and then on the chest, before flinging him over his shoulder to the ground, knocking the human’s wind out of his lungs. Still enjoying the thrill of the hunt, Lucifer watched as his victim blinked in shock, struggling to get up. 

Cain swung the blade, missing Lucifer by an inch. 

Lucifer grabbed Cain’s wrist, stopping the sharp edge of the blade as it swiped mere inches from his own neck. Lucifer looked into his victim’s eyes as he geared himself for the final blow. 

_Fire… Destruction._

_Grey-blue eyes filled with tears._

_Don’t make me do this!_

Taking advantage of Lucifer’s momentary hesitation, Cain pulled his wrist free from Lucifer's tight grasp and swung the blade once again, slicing through Lucifer’s shirt across his abdomen, just above his belt-buckle. Crimson soaked the fabric. 

“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that!” Lucifer said in a low growl. 

Eyes ablaze, he elbowed Cain in the gut hard enough to make him bend over, then deftly swept his feet until Cain found himself flat on the ground, looking up into Lucifer’s venomous stare. Lucifer stepped on his wrist, forcing Cain’s grip on the knife to relax, and snatched the blade from Cain's hand. 

“You made a promise to me,” Cain said through clenched teeth. He smiled up at Lucifer, his eyes defiant. “Do it!! Be a Devil of your word!!” 

Lucifer scoffed. He pressed his knee into the mortal’s sternum, and placed the blade over his jugular. Immobilized, Cain looked into his executioner’s eyes. 

“Come on, Lucifer!” he challenged. “Do it!! You know you want to.” 

Lucifer’s lips stretched into an evil smile. His thirst for revenge intensified as seconds ticked by. Blood seeped from Cain’s neck as the blade broke the skin. 

_I_ am _the Devil._

_No you’re not. Not to me…_

Chloe’s voice rushed to him from out of nowhere, crashed into Lucifer’s mind like a dancing stream. His hands trembled. Jaw clenched, he fought to regain the resolve that was quickly evaporating. 

“Do it!” Cain taunted. His perverse smile widened as seconds stretched. 

A shadow glided past both men, then stopped in front of Lucifer, scythe at the ready. 

“Since when do you carry that silly thing,” Lucifer mocked. His attention never wavered from Cain’s jugular. 

“This?” Azrael replied giving the deadly instrument a once-over. “I figured it was fitting, given that I’m here in an official capacity.” 

Eyes ablaze, Lucifer offered his sister a sinful smile, and then pressed the blade deeper into Cain’s skin. Blood seeped from the human’s neck. 

_I love you…_

Lucifer blinked. The Devil, itching to burst out, sank way back into the dark pit. His desire for revenge still burned within him, but he couldn’t bring himself to push the blade fully into Cain’s flesh. 

“What’s it gonna be, Lu!” Azrael said. 

“I…” Lucifer stuttered. His hand lifted off of Cain’s neck. “I… I _can’t_.” 

A second shadow materialized behind the Angel of Death. Tall, slender, and proud, Zerachiel looked down at her brother. She offered Lucifer one of her signature almost-smiles, furtive and enigmatic. 

“I should’ve had more faith in you, Lightbringer,” she said. 

Lucifer sucked in a breath and looked down at Cain. Still as a statue, the human appeared to be frozen in time. Another sculpture amongst dozens that lay in pieces all around them. 

“Lucifer?” 

Chloe’s voice made him turn around. He saw her standing not ten feet from where he crouched over Cain. Her eyes were wide with shock. Only then, did he realize his wings were fully outstretched, and his eyes were ablaze with celestial intensity. 

“Detective?” 

She stood before him, shaking and unresponsive. Lucifer’s mind raced with a swirl of excuses and apologies that died in his throat before he could voice them. A swarm of cops burst into the building below—distant voices that kept getting louder as backup arrived. At first, Lucifer could not make out what they were saying. The indistinguishable cacophony turned sharper, as one voice rose over all others. 

“He’s coming around.” 

_Amenadiel?_

The cognitive dissonance jolted Lucifer. _Why would his brother arrive with the “unis”?_

“Oh, thank God!” 

_Miss Lopez?_

Maze’s terse voice joined the conversation. “God?” A scoff. “Yeah, sure…” 

The art gallery faded to black, and all Lucifer could see before him was the Angel of Death. Familiar voices floated around him in a conversation that didn’t make sense. Chloe called his name. Linda calmly reassured her. Daniel mumbled incoherently. Miss Lopez prayed. Maze and Amenadiel argued. Beatrice sobbed. 

“I guess my job here is done,” Azrael said. 

Lucifer frowned. “But… I didn’t kill Cain.” 

The Angel of Death smiled. 

“I’m not here for Cain,” was her calm reply. “I was here for _you_.” 

Stunned, Lucifer only managed, “Excuse me?” 

“Don’t look so shocked! Deep down I knew you wouldn’t be coming with me.” Azrael shrugged. “Although, you had me worried there for a second.” 

“Wait, you mean…” 

“Crisis averted, Lu!” Azrael told him. “Better late than never, I guess.” 

“I… I don’t—“ 

“Smell ya later, big brother!” 

Azrael melted into the darkness as light percolated into Lucifer’s vision. He blinked once. Twice. His eyesight adjusted to the brightness all around him. The first thing he noticed was a bright blue sky above, then the group of people that corralled him. One concerned face stood out from everyone else’s, and his hand reached out to touch it. 

“’tective?” he murmured. 

His voice sounded raw to his own ears. 

Tears welled in Chloe’s gray-blue eyes, and she let out a chuckle that sounded more like a sob. Lucifer’s body rested awkwardly on her lap. He glanced up, enveloped in a wave of shock and confusion. Chloe leaned down to kiss him, a gesture of relief that was followed by choked whispers spoken into his mouth like a mantra. 

“ _You’re back! You’re back! You’re back…!”_

Lucifer followed her lips into a sitting position. 

He let out an incredulous chuckle. 

Chloe’s trembling body pressed against his, so frail, Lucifer thought it might break. He smiled at her, feeling better than he had in days. His eyes travelled around the bewildered crowd as he took in his surroundings. He was at Hills Estate. It was early morning. The air was warm, but not toxic, though the scent of burnt wood lingered in the light breeze. The nearby forests were silent. Deathly so. As was everyone else around him. 

Lucifer stood up slowly. He absently rubbed his chest, a phantom pressure still clutching his heart. 

“What the bloody hell happened?” he asked. 

Miss Lopez was the first one to reply. “Dude, you literally _died_!” 

“Did I, now?” He caught a glimpse of Beatrice’s small frame peeking from behind Daniel’s much larger one. Both of them were staring at Lucifer wide-eyed. 

“Well, it sure looked like it,” Linda said, her face pale. “You scared _the crap_ out of us!!” 

“Yeah, if you’re gonna do something suicidal, would it kill you to give us a heads up first?” Maze accused, her stare hard on Lucifer. She was holding a familiar dagger, blood still dripping from its blade. His _own_ blood, Lucifer assumed. 

Amenadiel sounded the most calm. “Where did you go, brother?” 

Lucifer pondered on the question for a long moment. 

“A mistake needed to be rectified,” he murmured. 

Chloe stood close to him. Her hand slid down his arm, as if she were making sure he was really there. As if she couldn’t believe her eyes. 

“Is it over?” she asked. 

Lucifer let out a drawn out sigh. The sickening feeling that had followed him ever since he’d killed Cain was gone. All symptoms appeared to have vanished. Physically, he felt… _great_. Like his old self once again. 

“I… think so,” he told her. 

A sinking sensation took a hold of Lucifer as his gaze peered over the veranda. The death and destruction had remained despite his sacrifice. The Devil’s Prayer had spared only one life. 

His own. 

The bargain didn’t seem all that fair in the grand scheme of things. 

********************** 

Chloe woke with a scream stuck to her throat. Drenched in sweat, she took in her surroundings. Warm morning light filtered through the bedroom window. Midnight-blue sheets covered her to the waist as she sat, panting, on the king-sized bed. The house was quiet save for the soft, even breathing beside her. She turned to find him peacefully asleep, lying on his stomach, hair mussed from slumber and sex. 

Alive. 

_Lucifer…_

She whispered his name with reverence, still in disbelief. Her guilt had been consuming her for almost a week. Images of silver blades and crimson skies and bitter good-byes plagued her nightmares. Every night she found herself wielding the fatal dagger. Every night she’d push the blade into his heart. 

Every night he would die in her arms, and she would wake up screaming. 

A tear escaped the corner of her eye. She wiped it away, ignoring it like the lingering memories of a dream she didn’t wish to remember. 

Lucifer stirred, and his arm draped around her waist, urging her to lay back down. 

“Mornin’, Detective,” he purred. 

His gentle smile evaporated, his bedroom eyes sharpening the moment he took in her expression. As much as she tried to conceal her personal Hell from him, there was no fooling the Devil. 

“Again?” Lucifer asked, concern etched into his tone. 

Chloe nodded, hoping the forced smile she offered him would ease his distress. It had become a routine, really. Just like hers, Lucifer’s nights had also been filled with nightmares. They would both dismiss the disturbing dreams with a phony grin that fell far short from reassuring, and a change in subject. Linda, though dealing with her own coping issues, had offered to be there for them whenever they were ready to talk. And, despite being stuck inside a house until further government notice, neither had taken her up on her offer yet. 

Lucifer’s lips came to rest on Chloe’s bare shoulder. He made his way up her neck and jawline, finding her mouth and igniting the spark that made her recent horrors recede to a remote corner of her mind. A convenient distraction that had worked wonders for the past several days. 

“Lucifer, w—wait,” Chloe said breaking the kiss. “We need to talk about it. We need to talk about what happened.” 

His dark eyes regarded her for a long moment. They were filled with doubt and reluctance. Chloe scrambled to find the right words to persuade him to tackle the subject. They couldn't ignore what had happened that dreadful night. 

To her surprise, he gave her a curt nod and mumbled a, “Very well.” 

The jumble of thoughts in Chloe’s brain made speaking cohesively nearly impossible. A prolonged silence followed, one in which Lucifer waited patiently for her to speak. 

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said in a tight sob. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, and she lowered her chin, ashamed. “I’m sorry I… pushed the blade! I know there was no other way, but I… I’m having the hardest time dealing with… with the guilt, and… I’m sorry! I’m… so sorry…” 

His knuckle gently lifted her chin until their gaze met. “And I never thanked you for it,” he told her. “I guess now is as good a time as any.” 

Chloe’s brows knit into a frown. “ _Thank_ me?” 

Lucifer offered her a tender smile. “It was a chance at redemption, darling,” he said. “Had you not been so brave, I’d be in Hell right now feeling like a monster. No easy way out of that place at that point.” A deep sigh. “It’s hard enough to have to live with the consequences of my… blunder. I’d hate for you to be burdened by undeserved guilt. Let _me_ carry that load.” 

“You sacrificed yourself,” she told him. “It all would’ve ended if you hadn’t. Lucifer, you _saved_ us!” 

“I _caused_ it!” Lucifer let out a bitter scoff. “I couldn’t _reverse_ it, and…” 

“And _what_?” she urged softly. 

Lucifer swallowed dryly a couple of times, then whispered. “And it’s killing me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I know, right?” he said with a sarcastic chuckle. “Poor me! My spectacularly horrendous decisions caused the bloody world to nearly disintegrate! I don’t have the right to feel sorry for myself, and yet… I can’t help but…” He was struggling. Chloe dared not interrupt him. “I can’t help but feel like I didn’t _deserve_ to survive this. Those who died didn’t get the same mercy.” 

Chloe’s heart sank into her stomach. “Oh, Lucifer…” she whispered. “Don’t sa—“ 

“It’s true, Detective,” he said. “Why was my life spared, when so many innocents have perished?” 

Chloe thought about it for a long moment. “Maybe it’s because your purpose here hasn’t yet been fulfilled,” she replied. With a soft peck to his lips, she added, “And, besides, _I_ didn’t deserve to lose you.” 

Lucifer let out a soft, doubt-filled chuckle, but did not rebuke her answer. 

************ 

Trixie peered through the short hallway that led into the master bedroom. Lucifer sat on the edge of the massive bed with his back to her, his body hunched over. 

The mansion had been her home for the past week. Comfortable as it was, she missed her room and her bed and her stuff. She was getting tired of eating sardines, crackers and canned fruit every day. Mommy had told her the emergency services were slowly allowing people to return to their homes. The “sector” where their house was located would be given the green light in the next couple of days. Amenadiel had said Nana was in a shelter, also waiting to be allowed back home. There had been no word yet on her other _abuelos_. She hoped they were okay. 

Lucifer stood up and walked to the window, his hands stuffed inside his pockets. Trixie felt like running away as a familiar wave of fear overtook her. But she stood her ground. 

Mommy had told her how hiding from her feelings, even if they made her feel sad or scared, was never a good idea. They had talked for hours the night after the big storm. Trixie had cuddled next to Mommy in bed. The floodgate of honesty had opened up, and Trixie had told Mommy about Bill’s grandson, and not wanting to go to Nana’s house anymore. Trixie was really sorry for not having confided in her about that boy who had made her feel uncomfortable. She now knew believing his threats had been a mistake. Mommy had hugged her tightly and had promised her to always be there for her, no matter what. They had both cried, and talked, and there had even been a couple of bitter chuckles in the mix. 

That weight that had been crushing Trixie’s chest lifted, only to be replaced with something equally asphyxiating when the conversation had turned to Lucifer. Panic had made Trixie curl into a ball, and she’d clammed up once again. She hadn't been able to speak about what she had seen. She hadn't known how to cope with it and Mommy hadn’t really pushed her on that front. All Trixie had been able to do to get through the days that had followed had been to avoid Lucifer at all costs. 

But, this morning, during a breakfast of canned fruit and stale wafers, Trixie had decided to confront her fears head on. So, armed with determination, she'd made her way to the master bedroom in search of the Devil. 

Tiny specks danced around the stream of light pouring in through the window. They swirled around Lucifer, who stared outside through the window, unmoving. 

“Are you going to come in, or are you expecting some kind of formal invitation?” he said without turning around. 

Trixie took a couple of tentative steps inside the bedroom. “I—I just…” she stuttered. “I didn’t wanna bother you.” 

Lucifer stepped away from the window and turned to face her. His expression remained impassive. Head cocked, he regarded Trixie with open curiosity. “I take it you’re done trying to avoid me,” he said. 

Shifting from foot to foot, Trixie hesitated for a moment before nodding her answer. 

Lucifer exhaled. “Well, child, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m actually glad you’ve gotten over your—“ 

Trixie lunged forward before he could finish the sentence and wrapped her little arms around his waist in a bear hug that left the Devil speechless. Her cheek pressed against his stomach, where her tears soaked his silken shirt. A sob escaped her throat. And then another one. 

“Alright, ehm…” Lucifer mumbled, sounding totally disconcerted. “There’s no need to cry, little human.” 

Trixie hiccuped. “You c-came back!” 

A moment of baffled silence followed before he replied. 

“I did, yes.” 

“Everyone thought you were dead!” Trixie accused. “I thought… I thought you were _dead_!” 

“I assure you, child, I’m just as pleased about the false alar—“ 

“You kept your promise, and you came back!” 

“My… promise.” 

“You promised you’d do anything in your power to keep me and Mommy safe,” she reminded him. “You did. You kept your promise.” 

Clearly stunned, Lucifer simply wrapped his arms around Trixie’s shoulders, but did not speak. 

“Please don’t ever leave us again, okay?” she begged. “Promise me you won’t.” 

Lucifer pressed her body tighter against his and let out a deep, shuddering sigh. 

“You’ve nothing to worry about, urchin,” he replied softly. “I promise.” 

**[To Be Epilogued…]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you guys so much for sticking with the story. I hope you liked it. The epilogue is next and then, after that, I will release the other possible ending that didn't make it, but had been a possibility at first. ;-)**


	20. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hello, guys! Thank you so much for all the kudos and bookmarks! You guys rock! I'd like to especially thank you for taking the time to leave a comment.**
> 
> **Okay, so we’ve reached the end of this fic. I hope you guys enjoy the epilogue. I will be posting the alternative ending sometime in the near future (just so you know how the story could’ve gone).**
> 
> **Please be warned that, while there is nothing explicit, the story touches upon the issue of child abuse.**
> 
> **A huge thanks to _ariaadagio_ and _BelenP_ for their help & support as betas. **
> 
> **The story wouldn’t have been what it is without them.**
> 
> **I hope you enjoyed this fic.**

_Epilogue_

Lucifer was sprawled on the couch, head tilted to the side, a lock of hair sweeping over his left eyebrow. His chest rose and fell with each breath, marking a soothing rhythm in the quietness of the living-room. His eyelashes brushed his cheeks, dark against pale skin. Were not for the glass of whiskey he clutched with his right hand, and the ever-present five-o’clock shadow, one might have a hard time believing he was the Devil. 

Chloe sat across the coffee table from him, her chest expanding in that delicious way that made her want to kiss him. Unwilling to disturb him, she quietly packed away the _Trivial Pursuit_ instead. Trixie had teamed up with Lucifer, and together they had kicked Chloe’s increasingly dispirited rear-end. In fact, the only questions Lucifer had failed to answer correctly had had to do with sports. Apparently, the Devil found human athletes to be so far “beneath him,” he didn’t bother to watch their comical attempts to distinguish themselves amongst other lesser humans. But he more than compensated his shortcomings in the area of sports with his extensive knowledge in… pretty much every other category. So, in an attempt to even things out, he was only allowed to answer the questions that would earn their team a triangle, while Trixie tried to answer the rest. Both he and Trixie still found a way to cheat their way around that rule, but that made their interactions all the more adorable, and the game utterly hilarious. 

“Is the urchin finally asleep?” Lucifer slurred. 

Chloe went to sit beside him. “And it only took over four hours of fun and games to get her tired enough to succumb,” she told him. “She’s over the moon you’re spending a few days at our place.” 

Lucifer’s lips stretched into a lazy smile. “Good thing I have supernatural stamina. How can you humans keep up with your offspring?” 

Chloe chuckled. “It’s a mystery!” 

Lucifer leaned forward, his eyelids still heavy. “I appreciate your hospitality, detective,” he said. “Construction will be finished in about a week. It’s no Lux, but it’ll do for now.” 

The beach house Lucifer was restoring in Malibu was a beautiful one story mansion with direct access to the beach, and one of the lucky properties that he owned which hadn’t been decimated by either flood, fire or earthquake. A miracle, really. Due to its proximity to the ocean, it had suffered extensive water damage. Nothing a few million dollars couldn’t repair, though. Unlike the Hills Estate, the house in Malibu was only a short ride to the precinct. 

“I’m really sorry about Lux,” Chloe told him. “There was so much history in that place. Such a devastating loss! I can’t begin to imagine how you must feel.” 

“They’re just things,” he answered evenly. “Relics bound to be lost in time at some point.” 

He swirled the glass of whiskey slowly, lost in his own memories for a moment. 

“Well, I’m glad we managed to convince you to stay here with us instead of going to the Hilton.” Chloe clasped her fingers around his hand, her thumb rubbing tender circles into his palm. “And I really appreciate you making us dinner and pretending to enjoy the movie.” 

“A deal is a deal,” he said. “Besides, you were brave enough to try my chicken Vindaloo. The least I could do was find out more about this ‘Miss Poppins’ you and your spawn kept crowing about.” 

“Trix had a blast tonight,” Chloe said. She stared deeply into Lucifer’s eyes. “Thank you.” 

As predicted, his gaze shifted uncomfortably for a second. He uttered a barely audible, “You’re welcome,” and promptly changed the subject. 

“So, at what time should we leave tomorrow?” he asked, clearing his throat. “We wouldn’t want to be late on our first day back at work, after all.” 

“Let’s try to be ready by 7:30. We need to drop Trixie off with my mom on the way there.” 

Lucifer’s expression turned somber. “Detective…” 

“Don’t worry,” Chloe said, raising her hand in appeasement. “We’ve talked. She knows. So does Bill. Trixie’ll be fine.” 

“I swear, if that miscreant ever gets near your offspring again, so help me Dad, I’ll—!” 

“Lucifer!” Chloe cut in the moment his eyes turned to hot amber. 

“Relax,” Lucifer replied, looking calmer. His eyes faded back to charcoal. “I’m very much done killing humans. But it wouldn’t hurt for that pathetic sack of out-of-control hormones to realize your spawn has an easily angered step-Devil.” 

Chloe couldn’t keep her lips from stretching into a fond smile. 

“What?” Lucifer frowned. 

“For somebody who detests parenthood, you seem to wear that particular hat proudly.” 

“We’re talking about your offspring, detective,” he replied. “She’s… she’s _different_.” 

“Hm-hm,” Chloe hummed mockingly. “Admit it. You enjoy it.” 

Lucifer looked indignant and this time she did chuckle. 

“Yes, well,” he answered reluctantly. “I don’t get bored to tears when I’m around the urchin. Alert the media!” 

Chloe’s grin turned wicked. “I’d rather do something else,” she said, her voice dripping sensuality. 

Lucifer raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Do tell,” he purred. 

“Remember that thing you did right after I tasted your chicken Vindaloo?” 

Lucifer thought about it for a second, giving her a bewildered look. “Laugh when your eyes began to water?” 

Chloe ran her index finger along his neck as her thumb traced his bottom lip. “After that.” 

“Oh…” His sultry gaze trailed down to her mouth. “You mean this…” 

Lucifer took a sip of his whiskey, catching what was left of the ice cube, and brought his mouth to hers. The ice cube melted quickly between their tongues, leaving them both smiling when they pulled apart. 

“Yes,” Chloe said huskily. “That. Let’s take it upstairs. Don’t forget the ice.” 

Lucifer nodded, his expression pure sin. “Your wish is my command.” 

**[The End]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you so much for joining me on this ride, guys! Until next time!**

**Author's Note:**

> **Thank you for reading! If you are liking the story so far, please don't be shy and drop me a line. Constructive criticism also welcome (and always appreciated). See you next Thursday, guys! :-)**


End file.
